


The Water Boy (Who Played with Fire)

by flintwolf



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Pain, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:03:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6349219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flintwolf/pseuds/flintwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Aang was not found in the iceberg. The Fire Nation continues to take over the world.</p><p>Katara, a young waterbender, finds herself plunged into a world of pain. Zuko becomes tasked with keeping an intriguing new prisoner alive while she is interrogated for information. Two people trapped in an unground prison come to realize that strength doesn't necessarily come from being alone.</p><p>TRIGGER WARNINGS WILL BE IN EFFECT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Katara, Zuko, or themes in ATLA. Rights belong to the respective owners.

Katara heard another door open in front of her, this one heavier than the previous ones that had been opened for her as she was dragged through a maze of hallways. At least, it _sounded_ heavier. She couldn’t exactly see anything through the scratchy piece of fabric that had been tightly tied around her eyes shortly after being captured by the Fire Nation soldiers.

The air that hit her as she was pushed through the threshold was even colder than where they had been walking before, but only just. Almost as soon as the two arms were off of her, she swiveled around on light feet to face the direction where she had come. And was immediately met by a hard slap to the face. Reeling backward a few steps, her back encountered a wall, which she then braced herself against as she kicked out with her legs. Katara’s hope to strike her captor backfired when her leg was grabbed and twisted, causing her to hit the ground hard. As she attempted to right herself, a pair of strong arms lifted her up and slammed her left shoulder into the wall as the piece of fabric fell from her eyes.

With her vision free, Katara took a moment to glance at her surroundings. She was in a small square room constructed completely out of stone, along with three of the men who had abducted her from the South Pole many hours prior. In one corner, a round metal grate rested next to a hole in the ground. The diameter of the hole was no more than the length of her foot, meaning it couldn’t possibly be used as a means to escape. Other than that, the room was completely bare.

Katara was drawn out of her inspections by a sudden pain in her shoulder as it was pushed into the wall even harder by one of the men. She struggled, causing the flesh to pull from her skin as she was turned around to face her tormentors. The next few minutes was a blur of hits and kicks as two of the men attacked her while the third held her against the solid wall behind her. A particularly brutal blow to her stomach had her doubling over in pain, which only made it possible to take a knee to the face. She felt tears prick to her eyes for the first time since she had been captured as the bones in her nose cracked, and blood dripped down onto her heavy blue robe.

A few more hits later, the door opened again to reveal a tall man with chest-length white hair as he stepped into the room. His uniform was a slightly altered version of the ones worn by the men who had captured her, and his presence screamed authority.

The onslaught on her battered body immediately halted, but Katara continued her efforts to escape from the arms that detained her. She even managed to land a powerful kick between the legs of one of the guards who turned to acknowledge the newcomer. She couldn’t help but smirk at the pitiful grunting sound he released. The expression only made her broken nose hurt more.

As the white-haired man made his way towards her, Katara noticed that his entire face was covered in healed burns. His skin appeared to bubble beneath the surface, forming strange patterns not unlike that of scales from a reptile. Paired with his thin-set mouth and light—almost gold—eyes, this man had the appearance and poise of a snake. Due to his hair and the slightly wrinkled skin of his exposed arms (one of which led to a hand scarred-over in the same manner as his face), she guessed him to be a few years older than her father. He didn’t even glace at the other three men in the room, although he did cock his head a bit to the side at the sight of Katara’s assault on the man who was now clutching his junk in pain. The girl continued to struggle and thrash even as the older man paused not an arm’s length from her.

“This one’s got fire,” the snake man smirked.

Katara spat in his direction. The man’s expression darkened as he wiped her saliva off of his face with the back of his hand. Before she could blink, a strong hand roughly grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look directly into the snake’s eyes. The cold eyes starred at her, cruel and calculating. After a moment, Katara’s face was pulled even closer as the man rasped into her ear, “I’m going to enjoy watching the light leave your eyes." 

With that, he let go of the girl, signaling to the other men to do the same. Katara abruptly fell to the ground, scrambling to sit up just in time to see the last guard leave the room, closing the door behind him.

Now alone in her personal prison, Katara was finally able to give in to her exhaustion. She slid down the wall and brought her knees up under her chin, reaching up to pinch her nose in attempt to quench the bleeding. As fatigued as she was, the only thing Katara really craved was water. She couldn’t even collect any moisture from the air. Straining her senses farther, she attempted to pull up water from the hole she had seen when the men had pushed her into this room, but felt nothing. There was no trace of anything she could bend. For the first time since the waterbender had discovered her talent, she felt truly helpless. 

Katara started when the door creaked open, fearing that her punishment wasn’t yet over. From her spot against the wall, she squinted her eyes when she realized the newcomer was not dressed in the red and black uniforms of the guards, but appeared to be almost as dirty as herself. She briefly wondered what her tormentors could gain from tricking her in this way, but then the man—who was decided to be only a bit older than herself—continued his way into the room, carrying a small metal bucket with him. Katara heard the tell-tale sound of liquid sloshing around inside the container and immediately straightened up, preparing to attack. 

The man (boy?) seemed to notice her movement, and quickly brought himself and the container all the way into the room, allowing the door to slam heavily behind him. He flinched as the sound resonated through the room, but never took his eyes off the waterbender.

That is, until said bender drew water from the pail and pinned his arms to the closed door with only a flick of her wrist. The ice tightened around him as she slowly made her way over to him, streams of more water already at her command. The boy pulled in an attempt to free himself, but resistance only fuelled Katara’s anger. She was in his face in a second with a sharp shard of ice at his throat.

Neither had said a word. Katara was shaking with excitement from the sudden position of power she found herself in. Or maybe it was just her legs protesting the weight they had to support. She held her ground, pushing aside the fatigue so she could size up the boy in front of her, who had stopped struggling and instead just met her gaze with an equal amount of challenge. They remained like this for a long while, the only sound coming from her heavy breathing and the occasional scuff of his shoe on stone as he shifted his weight.

It was he who spoke first. “You’re bleeding,” the boy said, nodding at her left shoulder.

Katara wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been that. She squinted at him, certain he was just trying to distract her so he could get the upper hand. However, curiosity won out, and she tightened the restraints binding his arms before sparing a quick glance to her left. The cloth covering her shoulder was completely shredded and wet with her blood from where it had been slammed against the rough stone wall.

“And your, uh…” the boy started, crinkling his nose when Katara looked up at him again.

The girl couldn’t help but bark out a snorting laugh at the absurd comment. _Doesn’t he know I can FEEL the blood dripping down my face. Do I LOOK like an idiot.? Actually,_ Katara thought, _I probably DO…_ At this, Katara paused her inner monologue to review her now-ratty clothes. They were far too heavy to be appropriate in the climate of her small cell, and the vibrant cerulean and snow-whites of the fabric didn’t seem quite right for this dire occasion. Not to mention that she was filthy from being on the ground, and covered in her own blood. She hadn’t even bothered to wipe away the blood that had leaked from her nose since the boy had come into her room. Yes, in all honesty, Katara assumed that she _did_ look rather silly.

And here she was, attacking someone who had done absolutely nothing to hurt her. He hadn’t even said anything that could be taken as malicious. He’d simply walked in here to- _what?_

Katara stepped back and regarded her captive thoughtfully, if not a little cautious. He seemed to be about her age, maybe a little older, and, from what she could tell of his height (he was a little stretched out due to her ice limiting his ability to stand regularly), wasn’t much taller than her either. He appeared thin, but strong underneath the worn maroon rags he was wearing. His face was marked by a round-ish scar completely encompassing his left eye and extending beneath his hairline and over to his ear. A mop of dark brown hair nearly reached his eyes. With his appearance taken into account, he couldn’t possibly be on the same level as the men who had abused her earlier. Still, Katara thought it best to keep her guard up.

“Why are you here?” she demanded in the firmest voice she could muster.

The boy raised the uninjured eyebrow at her while shaking his still-contained limbs. Katara sighed and begrudgingly released him, but kept a firm hold on her element, ready to impale him with ice if he even blinked at her the wrong way.

Rubbing his chilled arms to restore warmth, the boy gave a sarcastic bow before gesturing to the bucket. “They told me to bring you water. Guess they figured it’d be best to send someone who didn’t matter in with it, rather than risk you attacking one of them. Smart call.” The words were both casual and acidic at the same time. His voice was gruff, yet stable, which somehow calmed Katara’s nerves a bit. He didn’t _sound_ like he was lying…

She lowered her hands a bit. “And you’re… what? A hostage like me?”

He chuckled at that. “A hostage would have somewhere else to be. A home. I’m more of a permanent resident. Against my will.” The boy kicked a pebble with his shoe, looking down at the ground. His hands were tucked away in the pockets of his shabby pants. He clearly had no intent of attacking her, or he’d have done it the second she’d let her guard down. Katara decided to trust that he was simply a prisoner like herself, and let her weapons return back to the bucket he had brought with him.

Sighing, Katara knelt down next to the water and tried to focus on her chi and the water. She was interrupted by movement in her peripheral, and tensed when the boy sat down across from her, intentionally maintaining a decent distance away, which she appreciated.

“I’m Zuko, by the way,” he announced, holding a hand out to her.

Katara shook her head at the hand and returned to her concentration. “And _I_ would appreciate some quiet.” That seemed to shut him up.

Zuko watched with interest as the girl formed glowing gloves out of the water before gently touching them to her wounds. The torn skin from her shoulder began to grow back, and her nose stopped bleeding as soon as her hand touched it. A few more moments of her hand lingering over her face, he saw the bones appear to melt back into place. He had heard of certain benders being able to heal themselves, but this was beyond anything that he could have imagined. _That would have been handy a few years ago,_ he thought bitterly. He observed in silence until all the blood was washed from her face, and all visible wounds were healed.

The girl then bent a few handfuls of the remaining water into her mouth in neat streams, and Zuko was mesmerized by her throat as it took in the sips of water. _She must not have gotten anything to drink in awhile_ , he thought as she continued drinking for a few moments more. He wondered if she’d had anything to eat yet. Would the guards allow her food? Or would they wait until they got the information they wanted? He thought back to when he had been filling the pail with water after being ordered to bring water into the designated cell, and had overheard the men talking about using her to gain information for the Fire Lord. Zuko didn’t know what this girl knew, but he was certain that the brutal men who had kept him here for years would stop at nothing to get it out of her.

When Katara was satisfied that she had drunk enough water, the bucket was nearly empty. She knew it might be awhile before she would get another drink, so forced herself to finish it off. Feeling better after her drink and her healing session, she regarded the boy—Zuko—once again. He was watching her with interest, his golden eyes swimming with questions.

But Katara was tired, and had to figure out a plan for escape. She had no time for questions.

“Well. Um… Thank you? For the water.” She said, a little less confidently than she would have liked.

The boy shot her a small, hesitant smile before grabbing the empty pail and rising from his spot on the ground. His hand was raised to knock on the door when the sound of a throat being cleared stopped him. He turned to glance at the girl behind him.

“And I’m sorry for attacking you,” Katara muttered as she sheepishly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know if-“

“It’s alright,” Zuko stopped her. “I’d have been scared too.”

Katara shot him an indignant glare. “I wasn’t- I was just-” she started, but then paused and sighed heavily, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

The boy gave her a weak smile before nodding his head once in understanding. He didn’t blame her for acting the way she did. He made to turn back around, but stopped when he was facing halfway between her and the door.

“Besides,” Zuko shrugged, “I could have gotten out anytime I wanted anyways.”

Katara snorted. “Oh yeah? And just how would you have done that? My ice could hold a dozen adult warriors in place, no problem,” she beamed proudly.

Zuko just grinned and knocked on the door. It opened just wide enough for him to squeak through. He turned to look at the girl over his shoulder, smiled, and puckered his lips to blow a light puff of air towards her. In the next split second, he had exited the room and closed the door, leaving Katara alone once again. If it hadn’t been for the sudden warmth on her cheek, she would have been certain that the flame formed from Zuko’s breath was just a delusion.

This new realization hit her with the force of a stampede of moose-lions.

Zuko was a firebender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more written to be an intro type of thing. Plot will happen, I promise. Also this will focus pretty heavily on Katara's torture, so if you're not super comfortable that, this may not be for you. It'll have some cute parts, of course, but in between some really heavy stuff.
> 
> Chapter 2 will be posted very soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for graphic torture. You have been warned.

Katara paced in her small cell as she thought about what had just happened.

Zuko was a firebender.

He had literally blown _fire_ into her face.

How could she have let her guard down so carelessly? It was obvious that he had just been pretending to be kind to her. Probably so that she’d trust him and spill her secrets (what secrets did she even have?) or convince her to not fight back against the men who hurt her or to use her for something evil or or.

“ _Grrrrrrhggg!_ ” Her frustrated groan echoed in the empty room. _What I wouldn’t give to freeze that stupid smirk off his face. I’ll DROWN him if I get the chance…_

Still, the more reasonable parts of Katara’s mind couldn’t ignore the facts. He hadn’t done anything to hurt her. He brought her water. He gave her no reason to believe that anything he had told her was a lie. He was just a prisoner, like herself. _He hadn’t wanted to hurt her._

But he was a firebender. 

Even Katara, a waterbending master, knew that she would have stood no chance against Zuko if he was able to produce such a controlled flame with only a breath. Even with the small amount of water at her access, she was tired, hungry, and injured. And the cramped room would have gotten so hot in an instant, making it even more difficult for her to bend. Yes, had the boy chosen to attack, she would have been very much screwed.

But he _didn’t_ attack her. He just _left._ While she wasn’t certain of what his motives were, Katara knew that the next time she saw him, she would be prepared. She would get answers. Whether that involved kicking his ass or not would be up to him.

Confused as she was, the possibility of getting explanations made her all the more determined to get through the night without freaking out over the plethora of questions she had.

_Why am I here?_

_What do these men want from me?_

_Why did a firebender bring me water?_

_Will I ever get to see my tribe again?_

 Curling up on the cold ground, Katara ignored the aching in her head and the pang of hunger in her stomach and gave into exhaustion.

 

* 

 

When Zuko returned to his bunk after his encounter with the water bending girl, his three roommates were already asleep. Careful not to wake anyone (especially not the cranky firebender who slept below him), he climbed into his bed and lay above the covers, knowing that sleep would not come easy for him tonight.

He didn’t know what possessed him to firebend at the girl. She had to have known that this was a Fire Nation prison, and with the war going on, anyone from the Water Tribe would have a right to be hateful of anyone with the power of fire. He certainly hadn’t intended to frighten her. So _why_ did he do it?

 _I wonder what she thinks of me,_ Zuko thought. Was she beginning to trust him after she had let him go? Did she hate him for seeing her in such a dirty, bloody state? Did she want to see him again?

He didn’t know why the girl’s feelings mattered, anyways. She was in here, just like him, and just like everyone else. The only difference was, while he and the others had become accustomed to the life in the prison, she did not. She was new. Innocent. She didn’t know how things worked. Maybe Zuko could be the one to show her? Just as soon as Zogen, who pretty much ran this place, found it fit to release her into the general detainee areas. It didn’t usually take that long. All Zuko had had to do was bow and kiss his boot. He didn’t even care how humiliating it might have seemed. It’s not like he had anything better to do.

 It’s not like he had anyone better to _be._

Zuko thought bitterly of the day he’d been taken here, and felt his scar start to tingle in remembrance. Yes, he had felt nothing then. He still feels nothing. He just does as he’s told, doesn’t try to make friends or enemies. His mind doesn’t reel with schemes of escaping, or of cherished memories of the people he misses. He just exists. An empty shell.

But this _girl._ He doesn’t even know her name, but she’s made him feel… _something._ Being attacked with her ice and stuck on that wall was the most alive he’d felt in a long time. She challenged him. She certainly challenged Zogen, if the angered look on his scarred face as he left the room was anything to go by.

Maybe that’s why he had revealed his fire to her. To challenge her. Just to see what she would do. Would she slit his throat with a blade of water the second she could? Would he even get the chance to see her again?

Crossing his arms behind his head, Zuko replayed in his mind the image of her fierce blue eyes and strong, but gentle, hands as she used the water. When he eventually drifted to sleep, the last thing he thought about was her brief (but _stunning)_ look of shock she had given him just before the door had closed to separate them.

 

*

 

It seemed that hardly any time had passed since Katara had fallen asleep when she was awoken by the sound of heavy footsteps that were way too close to be from outside the room. Opening her eyes, still heavy from her limited sleep, she only saw a large boot moving towards her before feeling a sharp pain in her head and blacking out.

When she dizzily came to, Katara first became aware of the dull ache in her head. As she went to reach up to check it for blood or bumps, she became aware of her second surprise of the day: her arms would not move. Shaking her head violently (which hurt like hell) to clear her foggy vision, Katara noticed that she was in the standing position against the wall across from the door. Upon farther wakefulness, she realized that her limbs would not cooperate due to the heavy chain that bound her wrists over her head.

Katara’s breathing accelerated, knowing that this compromising position could only mean something bad was going to happen.

Her fears were proven when she felt the first hit knock the wind out of her lungs. _Where did he come from?_ she wondered as the guard pulled his arm back to aim another one at the soft muscle of her side. On her other side, she had just enough time to turn her head away to prevent another hit from breaking her nose again. Using her free legs, Katara kicked out to her right side, barely managing to make contact to the guard’s knee. Apparently, he still felt it enough to take offense, though. Stepping in front of her, mindful of her thrashing legs, he waited for his opening and slammed the heal of his boot onto one of her knees, curling his lips into a smile when he heard something pop. Pain shot up her leg as Katara barely managed to hold back a scream. Without the support of both of her legs, the metal cuffs on her wrists dug into her skin as she sunk a little lower in her restraints.

As she was spitting out blood from a slap to the face, the door opened to reveal the same man with the scar on his face that had spoken to her yesterday.

The two men dropped their arms and bowed to the white haired man, greeting him with a unified “General Zogen.”

“Is she ready to talk?” the snake man, Zogen, asked the guards.

 “Talk about _what?_ I don’t even know what you want!” Katara all but screeched. The guards just shrugged.

“A fleet of ships from _your_ village was spotted near Fire Nation waters a few weeks ago. They managed to evade capture then, and disappeared after that, but my Lord is very much interested in finding them. I had heard that Chief Hakoda had a single daughter, the _only_ waterbender in the tribe. And from letters confiscated by Fire Nation dragon hawks, it seems that he was communicating with a bender from his home. Seeing as there is only a single bender remaining, I was charged with finding out what she knows of his location,” Zogen proudly explained.

Katara was shocked into silence at the mention of Hakoda, her father. That is, until the man who had taken out her knee punched her so hard in the stomach that she was certain her insides would end up on the ground in front of her.

“My- my father?” she managed to choke out. “He le- left years ago. No one in the village ever heard from him. We thought they were all dead!”

Zogen shook his head at her. “She’s lying. Get her to talk,” he ordered.

As the general looked on, the other two men shared a confused look before seeming to mutually agree that a change in tactic was necessary. The larger of the two made sure that the chains on her wrists were properly tightened before kneeling down to lock her feet into place with the lower cuffs. Katara struggled to kick out at him, but he held her thin ankles together with just one hand as he clicked the metal into place. Now without any way to defend herself, the girl felt dread sink heavily into her stomach.

She watched apprehensively as the smaller man lifted the metal rod that all guards keep in their belts. Katara flinched and closed her eyes to wait for the pain.

Only it didn’t come.

She opened her eyes when the smell of smoke invaded her nostrils. The guard had produced a small flame in his palm and was heating one end of the rod. Realization struck her like a ton of ice-bricks. Her limbs began to tense up and struggle against her bonds, even though Katara knew there was no way to get out of this. She tried to gather some moisture from the air onto her lips, hoping she would be able to freeze the men where they stood. But there was no water to be bent. She could do nothing as the flame went out and the red-hot rod was brought closer and closer to her stomach. Katara put as much fire (bad choice of words there) into her glare and lifted her chin to look right at her torturers, determined to not make a sound, no matter how much it hurt.

Of course, she hadn’t been prepared for it to hurt _so much._  

The heat of the metal scorched her clothing even before it made contact, and the sizzling sound hit her a split second before the pain did. She knew it was only the small circle of heat from the tip of the rod that had touched her, but it felt as if an entire pot of boiling tea at been splashed onto her stomach. Luckily, the pain ended almost as soon as it began, and she was able to loosen her jaw that had kept her teeth clamped shut just as the smell of burning wool hit her nostrils.

Releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding, Katata spit another blood-loogie at the man watching with disinterest across from her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to put as much heart into it this time, and it landed a good two feet away from hit boots. She was struggling to come up with a unique curse word that her brother had thought her when she felt her robes being roughly opened.

As much as she struggled, she was soon left in only her bindings and light leggings, leaving the majority of her torso and arms completely bared to her torturers. At her sudden feeling of exposure, Katara began to struggle more desperately, especially when she saw the rod being heated up again.

She pushed aside the prideful voice inside her telling saying that begging was below her and pleaded to the men. “I don’t know anything! Please, I don’t know where the fleet is and I don’t kno-“

Her words were cut off when the tip of the rod lay against her bare skin, this time being pushed into her side as her skin bubbled. As soon as it was removed, another equally as hot rod—from the other man, she assumed—burned her flesh even farther. Katara let out a scream, unable to prevent it as tears of pain and anger sprung to her eyes. 

She could smell more smoke as the rods were being heated once again. This time, half of each was turning red, rather than just the circular tip used to carve deep holes into her body. Katara closed her eyes allowed herself to give in to the pain as the rods covered more surface area, forming two angry red welts across her neck and stomach. The latter was even more tormented when the rod was turned to the side that had not yet touched her, burning almost to the line of her pants, dangerously close to the sensitive skin there.

Her desperate wails of “please please stop” eventually turned into inaudible howls of pain as they continued to mark her with burns. Katara was crying freely now, unable to hold back as the heat seemed to scorch her insides as her most sensitive nerve receptors were attacked. The men had learned what made her scream the loudest. They knew that the soft brown skin of her inner arm turned an angry pink when touched lightly with the rods, and a deeper reddish brown when pushed in hard enough for blood to break through. They laughed as her body shook uncontrollably when the sensitive surface of her neck was singed. Their eyes widened with cruel mirth when the shorter man knelt down to press his rod against her inner thigh, causing her screams to turn to gurgling moans.

For what seemed like hours later, Zogen lifted his hand to halt the guards. He turned to open the door to leave, expecting his men to follow. Before he stepped out, Katara was certain she saw him smile at her.

 

*

  

Screams sounded throughout the halls, and few people looked up to even acknowledge them. Noises of this nature were becoming more common as the Fire Lord grew more desperate for information on his enemies. These who had been in the prison for awhile knew that pain usually only came to those who would not yield to Zogen and the other guards. Some of them even shook their heads, thinking it stupid that someone would even try to resist them. If whoever the screams belonged to would just stop fighting and tell them what they know, they would be able to join the rest of them in a near painless, somber existence. They even had a limited amount of freedom to roam around the prison during the day hours (not that it was any lighter in the dark halls at this time), provided that they finished their work by the time supper was served. When the first set of screams faded away, everyone continued their cleaning, cooking, sewing, and whatever other job they had been tasked with doing for the day. No one even thought about it when more screams came a few minutes later. 

No one except for Zuko.

He was sweeping one of the many large rooms that the guards stayed in when he heard the sounds. He couldn’t help but feel a twang of unease at the thought that the screams could belong to the girl he had met the night before. He quickly pushed the thought away when he remembered how strong she’d seemed then. She was able to hold her own, surely. The fierce determination he had seen when she pinned him to the wall would prevent her from giving the guards the screams that they seemed to thrived on. _No, it must be someone else,_ he thought. Besides, she was just a girl, only a little younger than himself. What information could Zogen possibly hope to gain from her? 

Zuko was pulled from his thoughts when a large guard with ginger hair (who he had taken to calling "Red") poked his head into the room to inform him that he was to sweep the remaining guard suites before bringing supper to the waterbending girl. Zuko respectfully bowed as the man left. He then reached down to dispose of the pile of dust that that accumulated with a flick of his index finger. The dust burned in an instant, leaving nothing but a small black stain of ash on the ground. Grinding it into the ground with his shoe, Zuko picked up his broom and headed to the next room, hoping to finish quickly so he could go and the girl who had been pestering his thoughts all day.

Not long after, Zuko completed his work and headed to the eating room to retrieve his meal. After quickly devouring his tray of rice, meat, and boiled cabbage, he fetched the meal set aside for the waterbender, at the request of Zogen. As he tucked the bundle into his pocket, he couldn’t help but frown at the limited weight of it, but supposed the girl would appreciate it nonetheless. If his assumptions were correct, she wouldn’t have gotten anything to eat since she got here the previous night, and must be famished. After retrieving the metal bucket, Zuko filled it with water and made his way to her cell, anxious to see how she fared during her first day in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo no Katara/Zuko in this bit, but I wanted to give a little more explanation as to why Katara is there in the first place, and insight into how the prison works. Things should be cleared up setting and plot now, which will allow me to more freely mess around with the characters and their interactions. Which will be in the next update. Promise.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment. Reviews (good or bad) keep me goin' :)


	3. Chapter 3

Opening the door to the waterbender’s cell, Zuko was surprised to find it empty. Fearing the worst, he franticly skimmed the hall for any sign of her, but he only saw Red, the ginger-haired guard who had told him to see her earlier that day. The man seemed to notice the boy’s confusion, and lazily swung his hand in the direction of another stone door a few steps down.

“The general decided it would be best to move her there,” he grunted. “Something about it being ‘better equipped,’ whatever that means.” Red dug into his pocket and fished out a ring containing a single key. “You’re gonna need this,” he said, tossing it to Zuko.

The boy caught the ring and nodded slowly at him, but before he reached the indicated door, the man stopped him again.

“General Zogen also put me in charge of her… maintenance.”

Zuko tilted his head a bit at that, even more confused than before, but waited for the man to continue.

“But God knows she’d kick my ass the second she had her hands on water,” he shrugged, “and I wouldn’t blame her, to be completely honest. But as I would very much like to keep all of my body parts intact, I’ve excused you from all duties so you can focus on making sure Zogen gets what he wants.”

Red paused then, scratching at his bearded chin. Then finished with “And she wouldn’t be very much use to him dead,” before flicking the grime from his fingernails and lumbering off to the eating room. 

 Pushing back his unease at that final statement, Zuko continued his way to the waterbender’s new room, excited at knowing that he would be able to see her often.

His eagerness diminished when the boy budged open the heavy door. He froze before he was even completely in the room, eyes squinting as he scanned the scene in front of him.

While this cell was about the same size as the previous one and contained the same hole in the ground to serve as a bathroom, there were a few key additions. First of all, there was a sheeted mattress set along one side. It wasn’t exactly clean, but it was similar to the ones Zuko and the other prisoners slept on in their bunks. It may even be a little bit thicker. 

The aspect that concerned and shocked Zuko the most, however, was the body being supported by heavy chains attached to the wall adjacent to the door. With the wrists locked high above her head and spread legs tethered to the ground, the body looked almost artificial in posture. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest, she would have appeared to be… 

 _No. Don’t think like that._  

She was no longer dressed in the bright blue robe, but stripped down to just thin light blue pants and a white sarashi binding her chest. Both showed spots of blood and wear from the event that caused the most horrific part of her ensemble.

Almost every exposed inch of skin was covered in burns.

Her flat stomach was marked by dozens of intersecting lines of scorched red skin. Some were so deep that blood had seeped through and dried onto her body, while others formed white blisters. Her arms and neck displayed the same marks. Zuko could spot a deep circular opening in her side from where something hot had had been forcefully pushed into her. A few blackened holes in her leggings revealed reddened flesh on her thighs. He could see deep cuts on her wrists and ankles from where she had struggled against her bonds.

She appeared to be sleeping, her head bowed with her chin resting on her burnt chest. Her staggered breathing accompanied by slight tremors and repositioning of her feet betrayed her wakefulness.

“…um… hello?” Zuko started tentatively, his foot still keeping the door partially ajar.

“Go. Away.” The mumbled words were laced with pain and hopelessness, but it was definitely the same voice of the girl who had captivated him with her determination and intensity.

 Ignoring her, he allowed the door to close and set the bucket down as he slowly approached her. 

The girl lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes. “What? You’ve come to join in on the fun? You wanna laugh at me too? Wanna _mark_ me?” she spat with as much disgust as she could muster.

She almost laughed when boy took a step back as if she’d just hurled the entire ocean at him.

Zuko stood there gaping at her while he racked his mind for something to say.

“I didn’t- I just brought-“ he stammered, gesturing to the pail of water. “And I have food.”

Katara’s empty stomach reacted immediately to the thought of food, and her mouth watered as she watched the boy pull out and unwrap a small cloth containing a chunk of bread and some dried fruit. It didn’t even _look_ very appetizing, but she hadn’t eaten in so long…

She halted her train of thought when the boy took a step towards her. He stopped as well, reaching down to set the bundle of food on the ground before retrieving a key from his pocket.

He set to work unlocking her shackles, first from her ankles, then from her arms. Katara flinched when his elbow brushed against the injured skin on her arm as he turned the key to finish releasing her.

Without the support of the chains holder her up, Katara fell forward immediately.

The boy’s arms were around her waist in an instant, supporting her weight as he gently lowered her to the ground.

Once she was seated, she leaned back against the wall. From this position, none of her injured body was in contact with the stone, as her back had been spared.

As she took a few deep breaths, Zuko reached over to grab the food he had brought, putting it within her reach. He then got up to bring her the bucket of water.

Katara’s eyes flashed when she caught sight of it, and immediately pulled the liquid contents towards her, completely emptying the container. The feeling of her element at her fingertips gave her the energy to stand up, using the wall to support her injured knee.

Zuko barely had time to react to the stream of water whipping towards his leg as he managed to step to the side to avoid it. Her next attack was narrowly blocked by a shield of fire, but he was unable to protect himself from the sharp pieces of ice being hurled at him. Small cuts on his arm dripped blood as he looked at the girl in shock.

“What are you doing!? I’m here to _help_ you!” he said as he threw up another burst of flame to protect himself from her attack. He could tell she was already tiring, her water whips becoming weaker and weaker and her ice melting almost the second it was thrown.

Desperate, Katara took a step away from the wall, putting the slightest pressure on her hurt leg as she grounded herself to throw a series of jets at her opponent. However, her injuries had made her bending sloppy, and she was unable to make another hit on her mark.

Just as she threw another weak splash, her vision grew foggy and she stumbled a bit before being caught by two strong arms and supported by a hard chest to her back.

She was almost glad of it. She was getting closer and closer to blacking out, and falling to the ground during a fight that she initiated herself would have been beyond embarrassing.

But she’d sooner kiss an otter-penguin’s asshole than admit that.

“Let _go_ ,” she protested, trying to knock him off of her.

Zuko held fast, allowing her to hit him with her hands until she grew too tired and allowed him to hold her without objection. He couldn’t help but notice how perfectly the girl seemed to fit in his arms. It had been a long time since he had been in contact with another person in this way.

She was shaking with exhaustion and pain, breathing heavily as the boy once again lowered her to the ground.

When they were both seated on the now-damp ground, Zuko hesitantly took his arms off of her.

“Are you finished attacking me, now?” he asked. 

The girl just sat there, biting her lip and furrowing her eyebrows in frustration. After a few moments, she spoke, glaring directly at him.

“You’re one of _them_.” Her voice was full of hatred and accusation.

Zuko bowed his head slightly. “I can’t help it if I was born a firebender. But if I wanted to hurt you, I would have already.”

The girl snorted, though she couldn’t really argue with that. She looked at the empty pail and the water soaking the floor, wishing she had at least taken a drink before expending it all in her attacks. She may have been able to separate the dirt out, but she could barely manage to send a decent stream after less than a minute of battling the firebender.

Instead, she just closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything but the pain from the burns that had resurfaced even worse than before from the strain she had put on her body.

Zuko watched her carefully for a few minutes before grabbing the bucket and heading towards the door.

Once he exited, Katara groaned angrily to herself. _You couldn’t have been a little nicer? He was your only chance at getting water and something to eat._

She spared a glance at the now soggy bread and fruit. It looked disgusting, but she supposed that was her fault anyways. Picking it up, she had just started to pick at the chunk of bread when the door opened again, revealing the boy she had attacked.

To her surprise, he was carrying the bucket, now refilled with water, along with some strips of cloth.

Without looking at her, he sat down in a dry spot on the floor and began wash the blood from his arm before using one strip and wrapping it over the shallow cuts. When he was through, he tossed the remaining cloth the to girl where she was eating.

“I tried to get you burn ointment, but couldn’t find any.”

Katara just popped another dried berry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before daring to ask him to pass her the water.

Without responding, Zuko pushed the bucket towards her with his foot, not risking getting any closer to her. He watched as she closed her eyes and dipped her hands into the water, holding them there for a moment before taking them out to inspect her now-healed wrists. She then formed the same glowing gloves she had used to heal her nose from the day before, and set to work slowly gliding her hands over her arms.

By the time her arms were healed, Katara felt her spiritual connection with the water’s healing properties weaken. Knowing that she didn’t have the strength to heal her other wounds, she sat back to finish her food and take a fulfilling drink from the bucket, wondering how long it would be before she could get rid of her remaining burns. 

After a few moments of sitting in awkward silence, Katara curled her arms around herself and began to shake slightly.

"I already told you I wasn't going to hurt you," he said, a little annoyed. Then added more gently, "There's no need to be scared." 

"I'm _not_ scared," she snapped. 

"Then what... Oh."

She was hungry, out of energy, half naked, and in a stone prison underground. Of _course_ she was going to be cold.

Zuko ran a hand through his messy mop of hair and considered potential course of actions.

After a moment, he settled on the riskiest option, daring to take a chance with her.

Katara shot him a warning look as he scootched closer.

Zuko's hand shot out to grab her cold one before she had time to yell at him. Or hit him, which was probably more likely.

Katara immediately felt the chill drain from her hand. She bid her body to loosen up a bit as the boy moved closer, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders while the other held onto her hands.

He knew he could have just handed her the discarded robes that lay on the ground, but he _was_ closer, and definitely warmer...

He felt the girl relax in his arms as she stopped shivering. He couldn’t help but feel a thrill when she leaned her head onto his shoulder in exhaustion. She closed her eyes, presumably going to fall asleep.

Zuko leaned against the wall and allowed his eyes to drift down to her stomach, assessing the injuries there. He could tell they were caused by indirect heat, rather than by fire itself. They looked painful. Puss was already starting to seep from the blisters and dried blood clotted around the sloppy punctures from where something heated had been pushed into her flesh. He couldn’t understand why she had neglected to heal herself completely. Should he fetch her more water?

“I’m sorry for attacking you… again,” she said quietly, her eyes still closed. Zuko almost missed it, as he was still preoccupied with pondering her healing abilities.

He shrugged. “I’m getting used to it,” he lightly responded.

The girl graced him with an apologetic smile. She rested against him for a few more minutes before lifting her head with a huff.

Katara angrily eyed her injuries before lightly poking at a large blister on her stomach. She hissed as her finger made contact.

“Touching them only makes it worse.”

Katara turned her head to glare sharply at the boy. “I _know_ that,” she growled.

“Can’t you do the glowy thing and fix it?”

She sighed before explaining that healing took a great deal of energy.

“Maybe if you hadn’t attacked me, you’d have more energy,” Zuko observed.

“Or _maybe_ if I hadn’t been chained to a wall and tortured by some hot-headed assholes all day,” she shot back.

Zuko hummed in understanding before letting go of her hands to reach into the bucket to cup a handful of water.

Katara watched curiously as his hand hovered over her stomach before he opened his fingers, letting water drizzle over her stomach.

She sighed as the liquid cooled her hot skin. It didn’t feel as nice as healing it would have, but it was the next best thing until she had the energy to mend herself.

She lifted the water that had soaked into their clothing from sitting in a puddle, using it to dance it lightly over her skin, as Zuko had done.

With her pain soothed a bit, Katara hesitantly leaned back into the warm body behind her, closing her eyes once more.

She settled into a dreamless sleep minutes later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up cutting this chapter in half because it got weird with how things were happening and i needed some space to set things up in a way that makes sense. Chapter 4 will be up shortly.


	4. Chapter 4

When Katara awoke, she felt sore and groggy. But also warm.

 _Very_ warm.

She tensed when she felt arms tighten around her. _Oh. Right. Snuggling with a firebender. No big deal,_ she remembered.

Glancing down, Katara watched as a large hand shifted from resting on her thigh to enclosing around her own hands.  The thumb softly traced circles over her knuckles until she relaxed a bit.

Zuko gave her hand a squeeze before using it to push himself up from behind her, putting a few inches of distance between them.

He watched as the girl yawned and attempted to stretch out a bit, frowning when she flinched at the pain the movement caused.

Katara looked around for the water, pulling it closer to her side before setting to work healing her knee. Her nap helped to restore her energy, and the food had been able to work its way through her, allowing her to heal herself again.

She saw the boy watching her with interest from her peripheral. She made a show of resting her hands over her injured joint, concentrating on setting it to its rightful position. After stretching it out to test her work, she was satisfied enough to move on to her remaining burns. It was so much easier now that her arms were healed.

As she was redipping her hands into the bucket, she realized that she hadn’t said anything since she woke up.

Racking her mind for something to say, all she could come up with was an awkward “Thanks for helping me… be warm.”

Zuko graced her with a kind smile before informing her that she had slept for about an hour. “You seem to be feeling better,” he noted, nodding at her glowing hands.

Katara crinkled her nose when a particularly brutal burn wouldn’t heal all the way. “Not better enough, apparently,” she huffed.

“Burns don’t heal easily,” he said. “Even when they do, they tend to scar easier than other wounds.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she admitted. _But he would,_ she couldn’t help but think as she spared a quick glance at his face. She gave up on the part she was attempting to heal and moved on to another area of her stomach.

 

*

  

“Why are you here?” she asked without looking at him. She had healed herself to the best of her ability and was now working on separating the dirt from the puddles of water that remained on the ground. She was chilling her drinking water with bits of ice, hoping to sooth her throat that had gone sore from her earlier screaming.

After a few moments of silence, she turned her head towards him and raised an eyebrow, awaiting a response. 

The boy shook his head, clearing it before sighing and crossing his legs in front of him.

“My mother and I lived in the Fire Nation capital since I was born. She took in refugees from the Earth Kingdom colonies in secret, helping them get to land outside of the Fire Nation control,” he explained. “She did a lot for them, but eventually she was caught about 4 years ago. Fire Lord Ozai had her killed. I was left with a warning,” he gestured to his scar. “I visited her grave, once, and was sent here shortly after. I’ve been here ever since.”

Katara thought over the brief story, wondering how a man could be so cruel as to kill a mother right in front of her son. She had heard that the Fire Lord was cruel, but couldn’t believe he had a boy imprisoned just for visiting the grave of his dead mother.

She couldn’t help but think there was more to the story, but didn’t question it, instead taking a sip of water.

“My mother was killed by a Fire Nation soldier when I was little,” she offered, knowing that “sorry” would mean nothing.

Zuko shook his head sadly. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

Katara nodded in agreement, lifting small beads of water to dance along her fingers.

Zuko watched her for a moment before asking, “What do they want from you, anyways?”

Still playing with the water droplets, Katara grunted a response. “The man with the white hair thinks I know where a fleet of warships from my tribe is. My father is the chief.”

“And you don’t know?”

“No,” Katara sighed. “I haven’t heard from him in years.” She paused before continuing stubbornly, “But I wouldn’t tell them even if I did know.”

Zuko’s eyes darkened. “It’s that kind of attitude that’s going to get you killed in here,” he chastised gravely.

She dropped the water, letting it fall onto her scarred stomach “I think I would rather be dead right now, anyways.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t want you to be dead.”

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“Exactly,” Zuko smiled. “So imagine how upset people who _do_ know you would be.”

She considered this carefully. Did she really _want_ to be dead? No, of course not. But how much longer would it be before the guards and general actually _did_ kill her? How much longer would they keep her once they realized that she couldn’t give them the answers they were looking for?

The sound of Zuko clearing his throat brought her back to the present.

“So um… I know I don’t _really_ know you but… I’d like to. I mean,” he stammered, “not like _that._ But I meant just because you’re here and I’m here and I don’t even know your name and you probably don’t even remember mine but it’s-”

“Zuko,” she cut off his babbling. “Your name is Zuko. I remember.” She gave him a small, genuine smile that he swore was the prettiest thing he had seen in his lifetime.

Zuko desperately tried to will away the redness in his cheeks as he nodded and waited for her to continue.

After studying him for what felt like an eternity, she finally graced him with a response.

“Katara. It’s… Katara.”

“Katara,” he repeated, enjoying how it sounded in his own voice.

 

*

 

They spent the next hour talking about mundane things.

Zuko explained about how life in the prison worked, telling her of their daily chores, meals, and the general layout of the facility. He even told her a few stories about some of the other inmates, including his perpetually-angry bunkmate.

“He _really_ threatened to shove a broom up a guard’s butt just for putting him on sweep duty two days in a row?”

“Yeah,” Zuko laughed, “and when he finally got out of solitary, he wasn’t even allowed NEAR the brooms. And I swear, that guard never walked the same way after that. I call him Waddles.”

“So you’ve got Waddles, Red, and Juicy?” Katara couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous nicknames for the guards Zuko had come up with. It was nice to know a sense of humor could be maintained in here.

“And my sister had a pet snake named Charlie once who looked just like Zogen. Of course, she did end up lighting it on fire…”

“The guy with the scaly scars? I could never think of him as Charlie. He's too scary,” Katara shivered as she remembered what he’d said to her the first day.

“He doesn’t bother much with most of us. I just stay out of his way, and I’ve been fine.”

 Katara thought that the odds he’d ever leave her alone were slim.

 

*

 

“And then my brother Sokka grabbed the penguin by his tail feathers and didn’t let go until it had dragged him through the entire camp. We weren’t allowed to go penguin sledding after that,” Katara finished her story. 

“Your brother sounds great,” Zuko chuckled, wishing his childhood was as fun as Katara’s.

“He’s just a big idiot,” the girl scowled. “Once, he spent three hours trying to build a fire by rubbing sticks together just because he wouldn’t use _my_ flintrock when he dropped his in the river.”

“I’ve never had that problem,” Zuko smirked.

He opened his palm and produced a flame in an instant before shooting it at the piece of cloth that had once contained Katara’s food. The girl rolled her eyes before splashing water over it to put it out. 

She felt much better now. She didn’t hate him like she had when she’d first found out he was a firebender. He was right; no one could choose if they were a bender or not.

She laughed when Zuko had attempted to spin little sparks in his hand as she had with the water. He had gotten frustrated when one shot up unexpectedly and almost lit the collar of his shirt on fire. Katara had offered to show him other tricks sometimes, while he had told her he could explain how he bent fire with his feet, a skill that Katara had never understood.

His fire fascinated (and terrified) her, just as her water intrigued him.

“Can you heal people other than yourself?” he had asked.

She responded by getting up to kneel in front of him, laying her hand on his wrapped arm as she looked up at him under her eyelashes. He nodded in answer to her silent question, and held his breath as she gently unwrapped the cloth, revealing the multitude of shallow cuts she had caused earlier. She skimmed her fingers along his arm, sizing up the wounds.

He shivered, even as heat rose to his cheeks.

Zuko sat still and rigged as the girl gathered water into her hands and focused on healing the cuts. They weren’t even that bad—he had nearly forgotten about them—but she seemed to be concentrating on him with her entire being. He watched and could have sworn he could see each individual cell connect with another, stitching each laceration back together with incredible precision. The dried blood that stained his arm seemed to be drawn back into his body, leaving nothing but pristine skin.

After she had finished, Katara ghosted her palm up his limb one more time before settling back to sit onto her heel.

Zuko nearly leaned forward to follow her, his skin tingling where she had touched him.

Katara saw the awe in his eyes and felt a surge of pride. “Does that answer your question?”

Zuko moved his gaze from her hands to her face, unable to hide the longing. “You, uh. You didn’t need to do that. But, um, yes." 

Katara shook her head. “It was my fault you were hurt in the first place. It’s the least I could do.”

They sat across from each other in comfortable silence, just perusing the other.

She noticed how his thin arms still showed muscles beneath the surface, and wondered how he was able to keep in shape in a place like this. She imagined him doing pushups in his room in the space between the two bunk beds. Or maybe they were from stirring the large pots of stew that he sometimes was tasked to do while on kitchen duty.

She also looked at his shaggy hair, and wondered if inmates were allowed sharp objects for personal maintenance. She could tell that he shaved, as stubble dotted along his jawline. Did he even care that his hair was so long that it wouldn’t be long before it fell into his eyes? Sokka always pulled his up, but maybe that was just a Water Tribe thing. Katara had never seen anyone from other nations, save for Fire Nation soldiers.

And now there was Zuko.

He was so different from anyone she had ever met before (not that she had much experience with boys). He wasn’t like any firebender she had ever heard of. He had the same golden eyes as the guards, but his were different. Softer. More careful. Every time she caught him looking at her when he thought she didn’t notice, he seemed to be almost studying her, calculating her thoughts. She would have been weirded out by it, but she did the same thing to him.

She wondered if they would have been friends, if things were different. If he had been born in the Water Tribe or if she had been from the Fire Nation.

Across from her, Zuko was still reeling over his healing session.

He had never been much for water, hating rain and never really choosing to swim on the hot days that frequented the capital. But watching Katara move the water with as much grace as the koi that had swum in the pond in his yard, he was willing to rethink his opinion. The way she ran the cool liquid over his arms made his stomach flip and heat rise to his face. When she had stopped, he wished she would manipulate the water to cool the suddenly feverish flesh on his cheeks.

He gazed at her stomach, no longer the angry red of before, but now a deep tan, with lighter patches from where the burns had scarred. Even with the imperfections, he couldn’t help but note that she had a beautiful body. Her shape shown off by the limited tight clothing she wore tempted him in ways he hadn’t felt in years.

He longed to run his hands over her stomach, to bury his nose in her smooth neck and inhale the smell that was just so _her._ In the time she had slept against him, he had been able to catch the scent of her hair as it tickled his nose. It was light and salty, though tinged with smoke from the guards’ fires from earlier.

Her body had become warm against him as she borrowed his natural heat, and Zuko was not ashamed to admit that he loved the way her form had seamlessly melted into him when she fell asleep.

He was admiring the soft skin on her arms when he noticed goose bumps pricking their way to the surface. Without thinking, he reached out and smoothed them out with the knuckles of his fingers.

Katara shivered, but she wasn’t completely sure it was from the cold.

At her movement, Zuko took his hand from her, rubbing his palms on his pants before standing up.

“I should, uh,” he began, “I’ll be expected in my bunk soon.”

Katara nodded, accepting the hand he had reached out to her. Once she stood, she looked around for her robe, suddenly aware of how naked she was.

 _I can’t believe I’ve been undressed in front of this stranger all day,_ she thought.

But Zuko wasn’t really a stranger. Not anymore. She felt like she knew him. She enjoyed his company. Trusted him, even.

_Trusting a firebender? Damn. Prison’s changed you._

Zuko had retrieved her robe from the ground, shaking it off before holding it open for her.

Katara gratefully stepped into it, letting the boy pull the sleeves in place before tying it shut. She frowned as she caught sight of the hole singed into it, but was happy to be in her warm clothes again.

“You’d better take another drink before I go. I can’t leave water in here with you.”

Katara nodded, bending a few gulps into her mouth. After swallowing, she suddenly realized how badly she needed to use the bathroom.

“Uh, Zuko?” she asked, a little embarrassed. “Is there a specific corner that would serve as a little girl’s room?”

Zuko drew his eyebrows together in confusion before understanding. He barked out a laugh as he responded, “Over there. You just kick the grate aside. Don’t forget to replace it though. Wouldn’t want to accidentally fall in,” he joked.

Katara looked at the hole she had noticed in her first cell. “…Oh.”

“They’re all like that, here,” Zuko explained. “Even the guards use them. Reduces waste and all.”

Katara nodded slowly, still a little uneasy about having to sit above hole in the ground whenever she had to… go.

She handed Zuko the bucket, which he took before raising a hand to the door to knock to be let out.

After knocking, he turned to say “Um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I guess, yeah. Thanks. Sleep well?”

“You too,” he responded as the door opened a crack.

He gave her one last smile before exiting her room, leaving her alone once again.

 

*

 

It was the red-haired guard that let him out.

“I thought I was going to have to come in and drag you out,” he said gruffly. Red wasn’t exactly kind, but he certainly wasn’t as bad as the majority of the other guards. He’d been known to joke around with the inmates when the mood suit him. 

Zuko laughed uneasily. “I just lost track of time, I guess.”

The man looked at him for a moment before grabbing the bucket from Zuko’s hands.

“I’ll take this. Get to your room. They called light’s out ten minutes ago.”

The boy nodded before heading down the hall that led to his room.

As he settled down for the night, he found himself hoping that the girl, Katara, would have an easier day tomorrow.

 

*

  

Back in her lonely cell, Katara lay on the mattress after relieving herself in the hole.

She couldn’t help but notice how much harder it was to fall asleep without Zuko’s warmth against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you i'd be quick! The great "why is Zuko in prison" question has been answered... mostly. As far as Katara knows, anyways.
> 
> Comments encourage me to write faster ;)


	5. Chapter 5

_Katara reached up to wipe a heavy snowflake from her eyelash. She had been patching up the weak spots of one of the igloo houses, using her bending to freeze thick layers onto the structure. As she resumed her position, she noticed a black smudge on the hand she had used to wipe her face._

_That definitely wasn’t snow._

_Looking up, she noticed that the cloudless sky seemed to be filled with black particles floating down over her village. Her veins seemed to ice over as she remembered the last time she had seen black snow._

_She had only been a little girl then, maybe eight years old. It was the day her mother had been taken from her, killed by Fire Nation soldiers in her own home._

_Katara stood straight as a spear as she scanned the ocean for the ships she was certain would be on their way. She spotted them immediately, three dark silhouettes bearing down on them with a speed ten times faster than the ships her father had left on many years before._

_The Fire Nation would be here within minutes to destroy what was left of her home._

_She called for her brother, Sokka, who was preparing meat a few huts away. His head popped out, goofy expression in place until he noticed the black ash in the air. He immediately called out an alert to the village, commanding everyone to gather what food they could and head to the caves that had been built after the previous attack._

_Within a minute, the small population of the tribe was making their way through the deep snowdrifts in hopes of reaching the caves that would shield them from the intruders._

_Only Katara and Sokka remained, preparing to defend their land as their father would have._

_Katara spent the next few minutes constructing walls to protect the village for as long as possible, allowing the people more time to get to the caves. Sokka spent that time trying to convince Katara to join them._

_“You_ know _the tribe wouldn’t stand a chance if the soldiers find the caves! You have to be there to protect them!”_

 _“Mom didn’t give her life to protect me just so I could run and hide! I’m ready to fight them. You_ know _I’m ready.”_

_“Katara. Dad left me in charge of you and the people. I can’t stand around and let you get hurt!”_

_“Then stop standing around and bring me those knives. I can freeze the ends in ice and throw them.”_

_Grumbling to himself, Sokka did as was asked._

_Accepting the knives and preparing her weapons, Katara put the finishing touches on her barricades, and turned to face her brother. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, he had her wrapped up in the tightest hug of her life. She held on for a few seconds before letting go._

_“Sokka,” she said gently, but with determination, “I can do this.”_

_He still looked worried, but nodded his head, smiling a bit at her stubbornness. “I know you can. Just… be careful. I need you around to tell me when I’m doing something stupid.”_

_Katara laughed a bit, almost forgetting the imminent threat that faced them. “And I need you around to ignore what I say and do the stupid thing anyways.”_

_The both turned at the sound of the first ship hitting the icy shore._

_Reading his trusty boomerang, Sokka gave his sister one last glance, saying “let’s make Dad proud,” before leaping over the snowdrift and heading towards the soldiers exiting the ship._

_Staying out of sight, Katara began hurling bullets of ice and the knives towards the men dressed in reds and blacks. She grinned in satisfaction when she heard men fall from her attacks._

_When the other ships reached land, she constructed a tower so that she could have a clear view of her enemies. Then, she summoned all her energy into calling a huge wave from the ocean, pulling it up high above the ships decks. After making sure Sokka was clear out of the way, she let the water fall, allowing it to crash down onto the soldiers who remained on the decks._

_The next few moments were a frenzied battle between fire and ice._

_As their flames began to attack, she formed walls of water to protect herself while sending water whips through them to knock her enemies off their feet. She managed to collect a handful into a ball of swirling water and began to freeze them into an icy prison._

_Her guard was let down, however, a strike of fire to her back was enough to stun her, freeing the men from their bonds. She sent a series of ice disks at the men gaining in on her, using a spout of snow to rotate and maneuver her to knock down as many men as she could._

_Her master waterbending skills could have easily outmatched a dozen of the best firebenders, but there were just too many. Her barriers were quickly reduced to slush, leaving her out in the open with be completely circled by enemies in a few minutes._

_Katara raised herself up on a platform of ice, getting her out of reach for a moment as she looked around worriedly for her brother. She spotted him just in time to watch him be restrained by three as he was knocked down by a powerful blast of fire from a fourth._

_She felt her platform begin to crumble beneath her, causing her to plummet to the ground before being able to strengthen it._

_The soldiers were practically on top of her now, and they didn’t even need to use fire to kick out her legs from underneath her. Her arms were pulled behind her back and bound, sufficiently cutting off her bending. She struggled as hard as she could, trying to knock her captors off of her by thrashing her body weight against them, but it was no use._

_As she was dragged through the wet ground and onto the metal of the ship, Katara caught sight of the remaining soldiers retreating as well. A few still remained to hold Sokka back with fire, but they too made it onto the ships as her brother was left behind, unable to do anything to save his sister._

_“KATARA!”_

_She watched helplessly as Sokka frantically ran to pick up his boomerang and throw it at one of the ships. They were already far enough away that his usually perfect aim did nothing but strike the side of a ship._

_After that, a heavy cloth bag covered Katara’s head, cutting off her vision._

_She could feel herself grow dizzy shortly after, but desperately tried to hold on to the sound of her brother screaming her name over and over-_

Katara woke in accordance with her dream-self passing out. Her stomach felt like it had just taken a hundred foot fall without the rest of her body.

She had only been away for a few days, but already began to worry that she would soon forget about her tribe, about her brother. Even in her dreams, she could tell that details were slipping away. This time, Sokka’s hair was too neat, and his voice was… different. Not annoying enough, maybe? She knew it may just all be in her head, but she hadn’t been away from her brother since the time he and her father went camping without her for his ninth birthday.

Was he thinking about her? Was he looking for her, or did he stay to protect the tribe? Part of The selfish part of Katara hoped it was the former, but she knew that the entire tribe was more important than just one member, regardless of who that member was. 

As she began to feel the claws of sleep start to pull her back, Katara vowed that if he did come rescue her, she’d kick his ass for leaving the tribe alone.

Curling into herself on the mattress, she imagined snowflakes dancing beneath her eyelids until she drifted back to sleep.

 

*

 

When she awoke, a bowl of broth with some kind of meat in it waited on the ground beside her.

After wiping the sleep from her eyes, Katara sat up and picked up the bowl. It seemed to have been originally hot, but had cooled off by this time. She wondered how long she had slept. Thankfully, she had not been awoken by a kick to the face as she was yesterday.

Taking a sip from the bowl, she couldn’t help but wonder if Zogen and his men had finally given up on hurting her for information. She didn’t think she could take anymore after yesterday, and briefly wondered if they would just continue their methods until she died, as she obviously could not ever give them the information they sought.

A twinge of fear accompanied the sound of the door scraping open, but she quickly relaxed when she spotted the shaggy mop of hair and dirty clothes.

When the door had closed, Zuko smiled at seeing her awake as he set down the container of water.

“Good morning. Er, afternoon, actually,” he corrected.

Katara shrugged as she reached for the water. What did it matter how long she slept? It’s not like she had any pressing activities planned.

Zuko shook his head. He felt almost embarrassed to admit that he had been hoping she would be up earlier, like him, so they had more time to spend together today. He had really enjoyed her company yesterday, and had thought that she had too.

“So uh,” he began, “how did you sleep.?”

Katara swallowed her sip of water before responding. “Decent enough. I really needed it. Healing myself wore me out.” Picking up her bowl of soup again, she grabbed a piece of meat with her fingers, pausing to say “thanks for this, by the way,” before popping it into her mouth. It wasn’t nearly as tasteful or filling as meat at the South Pole, but it was better than the stale bread she had yesterday.

Frowning a bit, Zuko recalled “I brought that over when I checked if you were up an hour ago. It has to be cold and nasty by now.”

Katara shrugged again. “I’ll take what I can get in here.”

Zuko reached out his hands, making a “give it here” motion.

After receiving the bowl from the girl, he calmly focused on the bowl, making sure to produce enough heat, but to hold back any flames.

Katara watched with interest as her soup began to produce steam. Taking it back from the boy, she slurped a mouthful of the now-warm broth, looking up at him gratefully from beneath her eyelashes.

“That must come in hand,” she observed. “I’ve never seen firebending used in a way that wasn’t…”

“Destructive?”

She nodded.

Zuko gave her a small understanding smile. “Fire isn’t all bad. Back in the Fire Nation, there are entire festivals for bending dancers. They make shapes out of the flames and dance with them. And there are balloons that can carry people into the sky using heat. Some artisans even learned how to blow colored glass, melting the different minerals together and bending them to make bowls and glasses. My mother had dozens of rainbow plates hanging on the wall.”

Katara couldn’t help but be in awe. Both at the things firebenders could use their element for that weren’t evil, and at the way Zuko seemed to brighten up at the mention of the beautiful things his home had given him.

_If I miss my home after only a few days, I can’t imagine how much he must miss his after years._

Suddenly feeling a chill at the thought of her home, Katara drew her robe tighter around herself.

He movement did not go unnoticed by Zuko, who laughed lightly. “And the permanent heat isn’t such a terrible perk, either.”

Katara stilled for a moment, remembering the way he had held her until she had fallen asleep. He had been even warmer than her thickest fur blankets from home.

Seeming to be thinking of the same event, Zuko awkwardly scratched behind his ear. “Um, about that…” He looked to her face, but the girl’s eyes were studying her now-empty bowl. “I’m sorry I… invaded your space last night. I know you didn’t know me or anything so I’d understand if you were mad or uncomfortable or-“

“Zuko,” she stopped him. “It’s fine. I was cold. You were just being kind. Thank you.” She gave him a reassuring smile, hoping he couldn’t see the blush that had crept to her cheeks at the mention of him “in her space.”

He seemed to open his mouth to say something more, but the door opening suddenly surprised them both.

The two men who stepped in also seemed surprised at finding the room holding two occupants, and both raised their arms in a defensive position at the sight of the bucket of water.

Katara didn’t waste a second. She immediately took this opportunity to direct the contents of the bucket at at their arms and legs, freezing them into place so they couldn’t use their bending against her.

The door slammed shut. She had them. She could get them to release her. She could extract her revenge on them and make them hurt as much as she had…

Standing up, eyes never leaving the two guards, she directed a thin, sharp dagger formed of ice at each of their throats, allowing the edges to just barely cut through the surface of skin.

She could feel the power of the situation running through her. She was going _home_. They wouldn’t hurt her anymore.  She could be the one to relish in their screams, to enjoy the pain she caused them.

Zuko stood very still, taking in the girl before him. He could see every minute shift of her fingers as she brought the sharp ice farther into their throats. She truly held all the power, here. These two men would be dead with a flick of her wrist. They deserved it, of course, but he knew the girl well enough by now to know that she wasn’t a killer. Even when he had been in the same position, with a shard of ice at his throat, he had seen on her face that she never intended to kill him.

But now, her face showed a completely different side of her. Her eyes were sharp and dark, narrowed and angry as she imagined all the ways she could hurt these men before her. Her forehead did not hold the winkle lines of curiosity that they had held when she questioned him, but was flat and sure. She looked so _cold,_ but at the same time, he half expected to see steam coming from her nose on each heavy exhale.

Zuko had not seen this woman before. He wasn’t sure if she was even thinking clearly at the moment, so blinded by the rage and power that took hold of her. She wasn’t a killer. He knew that having her hands stained with blood would not suit her. She would beat herself up over it until it destroyed. As fierce and determined as she was, she had a kind heart, one that wouldn’t take away life so casually without feeling the weight of it afterwards.

He worried for her, but feared there was no way he could stop her. Not like this. Not when her entire body had grown so rigid that he felt she would shatter the moment he reached out to her. Not when she seemed to be freezing the men into place with just her eyes.

Katara could feel him looking at her.

She didn't shift her stance, remaining posed to attack, as she focused her vision on Zuko's face. His eyes were serious and a bit fearful, warning her to back down. Not paying any mind to him, she raised her arm a bit, preparing to drive her daggers through their throats so they would never hurt anyone again.

To her surprise, Zuko tentatively lay a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Don't," he murmured. "Even if you took these two out, you know you wouldn't stand a chance against all the guards who would come to take their place."

Katara glared at the men, but she knew he was right. Still, she had to try, didn’t she?

"Katara."

It was his tone that stopped her. He seemed to be almost pleading her, begging her not to do something that would only get her more hurt.

Like a switch, his voice caused her reason to overpower her rage. What did she _think_ was going to happen? Even killing these two wouldn’t drive Zogen into releasing her. If anything, he would take away more privileges, not allowing her any food or water until she died in here, alone and in pain from all the extra torturing she would be sentenced to…

Slowly, she lowered her arms, letting the water melt and drop back into the bucket.

As the guards were released, they stared at her in a mix of fear, anger, and surprise. The one rubbed his neck and quickly knocked on the door to be let out of the room, but the other just looked at her, then at the boy, then back to her.

After considering something for a moment, he gestured to Zuko. “Take the water out of here. Then return to your bunk until you are told you may leave.”

His voice was calm as he gave the orders, which unnerved Zuko far more than if he had snapped at him.

Sparing Katara a helpless glance, he did as was told, following the guard from the room.

After emptying and returning the bucket, Zuko stood in his room, replaying the last few minutes in his mind and wondering what the hell was going to happen now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so frustrating to write and it still sounds so awkward to me. More will happen in the next one, i promise :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some graphic torture in this bit. Trigger warnings apply.

General Zogen oversaw the disposal of the stinking crate himself, knowing better than to trust anyone else to be sure it was done right. The last time the task had been done incorrectly, it had taken weeks to rid the facility of the reek.  

After pushing the box down into the shallow pit used for trash disposal, he quickly readied himself to burn it. To his disgust, the wood splintered in a few places, causing excrement and other rot to seem from it. He could just barely make out the greyed foot of the corpse from a gap that faced him.

A quick burst of flame was all that was needed to set the wood on fire, but he knew it would take far more heat to turn the body to ash. He concentrated more heat onto the deceased man, slowly watching the flesh blacken and melt from the bones.

He wasn’t a cruel man by nature. Strict, and maybe callous, but he didn’t go out of his way to cause pain. He had his orders, just like everyone else, and carried them out to the best of his ability.

If his orders happened to involve allowing a man to slowly die of starvation in a crate of his own shit, so be it.

If he deserved the fate, who was Zogen to play god? That was the Fire Lord’s job. Men such as himself are simply the angels on earth, tasked with performing the duties He required.

Of course, he usually preferred to leave the dirty work to his guards. The torturing and killing? That wasn’t his style. But some of the men he employed seemed to thrive on it.

And who was he to deny their talents when they were so needed during a time of war?

That isn’t to say he didn’t get a small bit of pleasure from tormenting the minds of his prisoners. He knew first hand what it takes to break a person, and has been happy to implement the skills he possessed for the good of the Fire Lord (and maybe for a bit personal entertainment).

As the bones had just begun to break apart under the heat, he was interrupted by someone behind him clearing their throat. Ceasing his flames, Zogen turned to acknowledge one of his most trusted guards, a large built man named Sherik.

“General,” the guard bowed. “I apologize for interrupting, but I have some insight on the waterbending girl.”

 The older man nodded shortly, encouraging the man to go on.

“When we went to continue the interrogation, as you had commanded, the boy with the scar was there,” Sherik began. “He had been providing her with her prepared food and water. We hadn’t expected her to have access to water, and she caught us off guard. The boy reasoned with her to not kill us, saying it would only make it worse for her.”

“And she listened to him?”

“Yes sir. They seem to have a mutual respect for the other. The girl is strong, and would have given in yesterday if pain alone would break her. I think the boy is the key to her. She trusts him.”

Zogen considered this for a moment. Sherik had always had a knack for reading people, understanding what makes them tick. _If he says pain is not the way to this girl,_ he thought, _then perhaps we should consider alternate methods._

“Allow me to finish my work here,” Zogen said. “Then we will discuss further actions regarding the girl’s treatment.”

The guard nodded. “The boy is in his room awaiting instruction. Shall I prepare him?”

The general smiled, his yellow eyes bright. “No. Tell him nothing. He needs to maintain the relationship the two have, and that can only remain if he is left in the dark with her.”

Dismissing the other man, Zogen turned back to the partially disintegrated pile of bones. As he prepared to complete the job, he considered the advantage against her that the scared boy could provide. _The Prince may finally be able to contribute something that would make his Nation proud_. _He may prove to be of some worth to his father, yet._ Chuckling darkly at his own joke, he let the heat burst from his palms, engulfing the bones in the pit before him.

 

*

 

Zuko was thrust into Katara’s cell roughly. He practically knocked her over, but she maintained her balance as she caught him, allowing him to get back on steady feet.

She warily peeked behind him, but no one else had come in.

“What are you doing here? I thought they were just going to leave me in here, after what happened earlier.” Katara commented.

“I don’t know. They just told me to be here, and-“

Someone else did come in, then. The large guard whom Katara had attacked. He was followed by Zogen, who coolly regarded the two younger benders before taking a seat on the dusty ground. Katara thought it interesting that a man of such power would find the dirty floor an acceptable place to sit, but her attention was quickly drawn back to the other man as he closed the door and reached behind his back to retrieve something from his belt.

Zuko edged closer to the girl on instinct when the guard, who he knew to be called Sherik, drew out a menacing looking whip from behind his back. He held it by a smooth wooden handle, which was connected to a thin strip of animal hide. It wasn’t very long, which Zuko knew to be a good thing, as he’d learned that longer tails meant a more powerful impact.

Although he desperately wanted to step in front of Katara, shielding her from whatever attack was sure to come, he knew it would only make the punishment worse. Zogan and Sherik were both master firebenders, and he knew the later had a fair amount of physical strength, as well. He couldn’t take them both, and without any water to bend, Katara would be practically helpless against them in a fight.

To his relief (and confusion), Sherik set the whip down in front of them. Zuko shot a look at Katara, catching her eye briefly and noting that she was just as tense as he was.

The guard then removed a simple knife with a smooth obsidian blade of about 4 inches in length, placing it on the ground next to the whip.

Zuko and Katara had to scramble to the side to get out of his way as he purposefully stepped up to the chains on the wall. Looking back at them, he seemed to be weighing his options. His eyes shifted from one to the other a few times before finally settling on Katara.

She could barely react in time as his large hand clamped down on her arm and dragged her to the chains. She struggled, of course, but not as much as she would have if Zuko hadn’t been there. She didn’t want him to be punished for her actions.

Once her arms were securely bound above her head, Sherik turned to look at the general.

“Which would you like to try first?” he asked gruffly.

Zoken looked steadily at Katara for a moment. “Why not ask our guest if she would like to reconsider her answer, first.”

When Katara didn’t answer, he prompted, “The tribe. Hakoda’s fleet. Where are they?”

“I. Don’t. Know,” she responded icily.

The older man’s eyes flashed for short moment. He then leaned back against the wall dismissively.  “Let the boy choose.”

Zuko tensed, looking at the weapons before him. _Choose? Why would they have me choose? Why am I here?_

Sherik grunted before kicking first the knife and then the whip closer to the boy’s feet.

“Pick one.”

Zuko starred at his feet while replying quietly. “And if I refuse?”

The guard barked a humorless laugh. “Then I’ll make the decision. And I’ll pick both.”

Knowing better than to challenge him again, Zuko slowly bent down and hesitantly picked up the blade. It was very light, but he knew that the black rock was sharper than any metal, and was careful with how he held it.

Sherik considered his choice. “I knew you’d pick that one.” He smiled then, clearly pleased at himself for being able to read the boy so well.

Zuko just looked at him blankly, waiting for his next instruction.

The order came just as he’d expected, but it didn’t hurt any less. “Cut her.”

Without moving his feet, Zuko turned his head slightly to meet Katara’s eyes. She didn’t look scared, only defiant. But she nodded her head slightly at him before glaring daggers at the guard.

When Zuko moved, it wasn’t to face the girl, but to stand directly in between her tethered body and the two men.

Zogen raised the scarred area where his eyebrow would have been, while Sherik looked unsurprised, if not a little disappointed.

Shrugging, the burly guard picked up the discarded whip before standing inches from Zuko’s still face.

“I’m sure you can guess what will happen if I have to ask you again,” he warned.

Zuko made no motion to respond or carry out the order.

Behind him, Katara struggled to look over his shoulder so she could see the guard’s face. _Why didn’t he just do it? He’s only going to make things worse!_

A loud _crack_ made her jump. She hadn’t seen the whip being drawn back, but caught sight of it falling back to Sherik’s side. Drips of sticky red liquid fell to the ground from it’s thong.

And Zuko hadn’t even flinched. 

Satisfied with himself, Sherik stepped back to catch Zogen’s reaction.

From his spot on the floor, the general’s usually blank face held a hint of interest. He gave his guard a short, respectful nod, encouraging him to continue.

Turning back to Zuko, Sherik’s face turned hard. “While I appreciate the show of heroism, just know that the next time you pull that act, she’ll get a matching mark on her own face.” He leaned back against the door, leaving a large area between the prisoners and himself. “Now. Cut her.”

Realizing that it wouldn't be wise to test the guard farther, Zuko slowly turned around to face Katara, blinking blood from his right eye as he did.

Katara looked at him with a mix of horror and awe. His wound looked deep, despite what his lack of reaction would have led her to believe. And he had taken it for _her_.

As he edged closer to her, she longed for him to look up and meet her eyes, but he just starred at the knife in his hand.

Slowly bringing it to her arm, he applied just enough pressure to make a slice through her blue robe. The fabric parted easily, leaving a thin sliver of her skin exposed. Holding her breath, Katara watched as he slowly dragged the black blade over her flesh, barely hard enough to sting. Tiny droplets of crimson beaded along the line.

Turning back to the men, Zuko carefully touched the blood left on the blade, turning his hand to show the red on his fingers.

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, Sherik shook his head. “Again. Deeper this time,” he said, toying with the whip in his hand.

Still refusing to meet Katara’s face, Zuko touched the blade to the thin scratch he had made, pressing a bit harder into her arm. He quickly pulled downward, cutting more of her clothing as he did.

She hadn’t even felt the pain until he had already withdrawn his arm, the blade resting at his side.

While the surface of the cut was thin, barely thicker than the hair of a polar-bear dog, it was deep. Blood had already seeped into her sleeves, making them heavier with wetness. She bit her lip to take away from the pain of it.

Zuko still hadn’t moved to look at her, but she could see the guilt from the wrinkles in his forehead.

 _He had to do it_ , she reminded herself. _And he’s being far gentler than any of the guards would be…_

As her blood began to drip onto the ground, Sherik pushed off the wall to step close to the pair. Nudging Zuko aside, he looked at her wound for a moment before roughly squeezing his hand around it, digging his thumb in to where the cut ran across the underside of her elbow.

Katara squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip harder, tasting the saltiness of the blood her teeth drew.

After a moment, she felt relief from where the hand has been pressing into her arm. Just as she had opened her eyes, a piercing pain on her cheek shocked her into letting out a high pitched cry. He had hit her.

Zuko finally did meet her eyes, then, just as off guard by the hit as she was.

He rounded on the larger guard “I did what you asked! You-“

He was silenced by another hit to his face, this time on his scarred side. Although it didn’t sting as much as the first time, Zuko was unprepared, and couldn’t keep his stoic demeanor any longer.

He couldn’t help it when his hands began to heat up, small sparks appearing at his fingertips for a moment before he could regain control of himself.

Sherik wiped the blood from the whip, shaking his hand afterwards. Small flecks of their mixed blood splattered onto the ground from the movement.

“You’d make a terrible interrogator,” he said, wiping his hands on the thighs of his black pants. “Your father would be ashamed.”

Zuko tensed, and Katara wouldn’t have noticed it if her eyes hadn’t been glued to him since he had finally looked at her.

_His father? Why hadn’t he told me anything about him?_

Her thoughts halted when she noticed Zuko move to place his hands on the wall beside her.

She was about to ask him what he was doing, but in that moment the sound of Sherik’s whip was brought down hard on Zuko’s clothed back.

Katara held back a shout as her mind reeled trying to catch up with what was going on. _Is he being punished for standing up for me? Or for going easy on me?_

She struggled to look at his face from her position against the wall, craning her neck as far as she could until she could just see the nape of his neck, partially covered by tufts of his dark hair.

She could see the exposed skin grow sweaty as the next strike made contact.

She began to scream when she saw blood seep through his clothing. Sherik wasn’t stopping.

Zuko’s resolve to keep his eyes open and stance strong weakened as the third hit broke skin. He could feel the guard’s hand go heavier as he went on.

“I could stop this anytime you want.” _Crack_. “But she’d have to take the leftovers.”

Katara widened her eyes. _Is that what he had told him? Do they think that I told Zuko where my father is?_

She struggled against her bonds, despite the pain in her arm, as she begged the guard to stop. “I don’t _know_ where the fleet is! I don’t _know!”_

Sherik paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Zogen, who was still sitting calmly as if he were watching a leisurely game of Pai Sho.

“Continue,” he said without looking away from the girl.

The guard nodded before turning back to the task at hand, hitting the boy with a particularly strong blow.

Soon, Zuko’s arms began shaking from where they were braced against the wall to hold him up. He could feel sweat drip down from his forehead, sliding across the bridge of his nose before falling to the ground.

Or maybe those were tears. He couldn’t quite tell.

Hearing Katara’s pleas of “no stop what are you doing he doesn’t know anything it’s not his fault” made it hurt more. So he tried to block out her words and instead focus on his shoes. He really should see one of the sewing ladies about getting that hole patched up. His dirty socks were falling apart more and more each day they were exposed. Maybe Red would be able to snag him an extra pair. He seemed to like him well enough.

His back was beginning to grow numb, but he could still feel every hit vibrating throughout his body.

Katara couldn’t stop crying. This was her fault. Someone had been nice to her and is getting hurt because of it. It should be her.  Not him. Not him.

Her pleas had become hysterical, but the onslaught of abuse was not stopping. She screamed louder and cried harder as Zuko’s blood sprayed onto her side and face from the force of Sherik’s whip.

It went on like this for several minutes, and Zuko had resorted to leaning his head against the wall for additional support as his arms grew too shaky to hold him up. Only after his brown shirt had become completely soaked through did the guard let the whip drop.

He stepped away just as Zuko’s body gave out, and he fell to the ground.

Katara’s wrists were rubbed raw as she frantically tried to turn to the side enough to see if he was conscious. She let out a breath of relief amidst her uneven sobs when she saw him sit up, leaning back with his arm propping him up so his back wouldn’t touch the ground or wall. His face was red and damp, but his eyes held fire.

The general had stood up and was approaching her by the time Katara had torn her attention from the boy who had just taken a beating for her.

To say Zogen was disappointed would be a massive understatement. But he could not hold on to his belief that this girl held the information he needed. He would have to tell the Fire Lord that his source had proven to be useless. He would have had her killed right on the spot if he hadn’t been so intrigued.

This boy, who he had broken years ago, was so… _different_ with her. He would have thought it honorable had he not hated him so much. _What was it about her that made him seem almost… WHOLE again?_

Zogen made it his mission to stop it, whatever it was. He would break her, just like he’d told her on the day she’d arrived.

But for now, he simply unlocked the manacles from her wrists. As he turned to leave, Sherik in tow, he couldn’t help but smile at the confused expression on her face.

 _Yes,_ he thought, knocking to be let out of the room. _I’ll let them stay together and lick their wounds._ He always was a sucker for a good love story.

After giving the ginger-haired man stationed in the hall instructions to bring them both food and water before lights out, Zogen thanked Sherik for his services, dismissed him, and headed to his private quarters.

After attending to an order of food that needed to be sent out, the general prepared for bed.

He thought about the boy with fire and the girl of ice, and the connection they shared.

He couldn’t wait to watch them shatter like two porcelain birds knocked from the top shelf of a trophy case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo busy week (and by that i mean i've actually just been bad and out of commission for a few days. Woo hoo). Sorry it took so long, but it's a little longer, so hopefully you can forgive me.
> 
> And yes. Zuko wasn't exactly telling Katara the whole truth about his family. tsk tsk.
> 
> Thanks for all of your encouraging comments. Keep it up ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Katara knelt down next to Zuko the moment the door closed. She gently brushed a tuft of hair from his forehead aside, the action causing him to turn towards her.

From this angle, his unscarred side faced her. The cut ran across his eye, causing him to appear to be winking at her. She hoped it hadn’t scratched his cornea. Even with her exceptional healing abilities, she knew wounds such as that would more likely than not result in permanent damage. 

“I hope you’re planning on using those tears to heal me,” Zuko grunted at her. He was attempting the joke to lighten the mood, but the instability of his voice ruined that intention.

Katara reached her uninjured arm up to wipe at her face, surprised that she was still crying.

“There’s, um, not enough,” she started. “I’m sorry I can’t help.”

The boy maneuvered himself so he could sit up straighter next to her, being very careful not to allow his back to touch the wall.

He looked over to meet Katara’s still-leaking eyes. Shame overwhelmed him as he realized that she was wasting tears on him.

He shrugged, looking away from her in favor of studying a crack in the ground. “I’ve had worse. Besides, I’m pretty sure they at least know that you were telling the truth."

“They should have hurt me, instead,” she argued.

“Sherik knew you’d react more to watching someone else in pain.”

“But you didn’t deserve it.”

“You don’t know what I deserve,” Zuko countered darkly, still refusing to meet her eyes.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Wha- what?” Zuko’s eyes flicked up to hers and widened a fraction.

“Let me look at your back.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the best idea…”

“Neither was letting it happen in the first place,” she retorted.

“I didn’t _let_ it happen! It would have happened anyways!”

“You didn’t have to take _all_ of it! I would have taken some if it meant he’d stop hurting you. Or _maybe_ if you’d done what he asked you to do the _first_ time- “

“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?” he was full out yelling now. “Hurt you more than I already had? That’s what they _wanted._ They were using _me_ to get to you. They _knew_ it would hurt you more if it was me doing it.”

“But whatever you would have done would have still been better than having to stand by and watching them hurt you like that! Because of _me,_ ” Katara’s voice broke a bit on the last word.

Zuko’s mouth opened to retort, but closed it again when he realized that she was right. If the positions were reversed, he’d rather take the blows than watch them being dealt to someone else.

“I’m fine. Really,” he lied through the pain his yelling had caused.

Katara opened her mouth to dispute, but snapped her mouth shut as the door opened, revealing a red-haired man. Before she could even leap to her feet in defense, the guard held up one large hand in a peaceful gesture. Taking note of Zuko’s indifference of the man’s entrance, she allowed herself to remain still, but kept her muscles tensed and prepared for conflict.

Red slowly lifted a pail of water over the threshold while remaining outside of the room. He kept an eye on Zuko, who was still sitting on the floor in a position that would cause his back the least amount of pain. The general had given strict orders to not allow the boy to leave the room, but to have him spend the night in the girl’s cell.

 _Not that he’d put up much of a fight in his state anyways,_ Red thought.

Meeting the girl’s eyes, the guard nudged the pail farther into the room with his foot before nodding shallowly and closing the door.

  

*

 

Zogen’s orders had come as a surprise that evening. The boy’s involvement in the waterbender’s interrogation was different, but sensible. Red had, of course, noticed the way Zuko’s step had gained more life since he had been bringing the girl food and water. While he wasn’t strictly given a time limit for which to be in her presence, the scared boy most certainly seemed to at least enjoy her company, if the time spent in the cell revealed anything.

But of course he would be used in whatever way possible if it meant Zogen could gain information. The girl who he’d heard attacked two guards obviously possessed strength and courage, which is why she didn’t break after the second day. Red had been around the facility long enough to have heard the screams of those sentenced to being burned by the rods the firebending guards carried around for the soul purpose of causing pain and marking the prisoners.

When Sherik had entered the room along with the general that day, Red had unconsciously hoped that the girl held the information they sought. There may be no stopping the torture if she ended up not knowing. But, then again, a bender such as herself would most certainly be killed once the information was extracted.

Sherik had been hand picked by the Fire Lord himself to oversee the treatment of the guiltiest war criminals. Whether or not they held information, Sherik would be tasked with physically breaking a person, making them beg for death. At that point, of course, he would oblige most mercifully.

Red had seen many people turn to that pathetic state of being in his years here, and he had earlier assumed that this waterbending girl would be no different.

But this girl was _interesting_. She somehow must be important enough to warrant Zogen being present for her interrogation sessions. He doesn’t usually attend, preferring instead to sit out and await the day where he could witness the individual walking around the facility as a shell of who they were before.

If Zogen cared about his guards more than a spec of dust on his robes, Red may have thought that he chose to oversea the girl personally to ensure protection of those questioning her. However, this would not be the case. He had watched each session of her even before she attacked with the water in her own cell. He even made sure she was cared for, with orders to keep her fed and alive.

After today, Red had been surprised at the order that he himself was to bring food and water, rather than the boy, who was to remain in the room with her.

Once he brought the water in, it was obvious why the boy was not able to perform this duty.

While he didn’t particularly like anyone in this place, Red didn’t dislike the boy for any reason. He mostly kept to himself, didn’t cause trouble, and would be the source of relatively decent conversation from time to time. Of course he knew of his status. Everyone did. But Zuko never acknowledged it (not that it was anything to brag about, really), which Red appreciated. He understood more than anyone that it was best to erase one’s past self to make life in this hellhole less unbearable.

While his mind was occupied with thoughts, Red’s body went through the motions of obtaining food for the two people in the locked cell. He often became unaware of what he was doing during his time here. Not that it mattered at all. The less he had to be aware of, the quicker the time would pass.

He arrived back at the door carrying two bundles of leftover meat and vegetables. He considered knocking to announce his entrance, but decided against it in favor of encountering a potential attack from the girl. Nudging open the heavy door, he opened it just enough to allow him to slip in, while being sure to keep his foot out to prevent it from locking him in.

While the girl flinched, she didn’t command the water to attack, instead keeping it tense and ready.

Red observed them for a moment, noting the angry welts on Zuko’s back and the bleeding gash in her arm. _She must not have begun to heal him yet, or maybe she can’t,_ he thought.

Shaking his head to clear out his thoughts, Red tossed the two tied bundles towards the pair with a grunt.

With one final perusal of the strange girl, he exited the cell.

While extinguishing the remaining lights in the hall, Red headed to his bunk in the guard quarters, allowing his mind to finally shut off for a bit. As he awaited sleep to come, he let his mind drift over his past for a few fleeting moments. Allowing himself to do so during the day was dangerous, as it could compromise his strict guard persona, but, now, he was in the safety of darkness. He could hide the smile that formed at the thought of combing silky brown hair with his fingers, or the tears as he remembered a home going up in flames, trapping a boy inside. His father had cried then, too, as saw the thick smoke and hungry flames in the distance, but couldn’t make it there in time.

Taroh fell asleep, allowing Red to go into hibernation for a few hours before he had to take over once again.

 

*

 

Katara watched uneasily as the guard left, then glanced at the pail. She could sense the water within it, felt it calling out to her. It seemed to promise to make the hurt go away, if only for a while. She sniffed a final time before using her dirty sleeve to wipe her eyes and turning her eyes to Zuko.

“Please, at least let me look. I have water now. I’ll be able to help you.” Her words were soft, but pleading, as she moved a bit closer to him.

Zuko merely snorted with a frustrated shake of his head, but did nothing as Katara reached out to touch the hem of his shirt.

The girl hesitated a moment, giving him the opportunity to pull away if he was truly uncomfortable.

Eventually, Zuko relaxed, giving in to her kind touch as she began to lift his shirt to reveal the flesh underneath.

Katara strategically avoided looking at his bare back, instead focusing on removing the fabric as gently as possible to prevent it from brushing up against his body. She paused when it reached his underarms, waiting patiently until Zuko lifted his arms up to aid her in pulling the shirt over his head.

Katara tried to ignore the heavy weight of the soaked clothing as she let it drop to the ground. He had certainly lost a lot of blood.

Zuko nearly sighed in alleviation when the burden of his shirt was lifted off his back, exposing the heated skin to cool air.

Katara, on the other hand, had to hold back a gasp at the sight of his back fully exposed.

She hadn’t realized just how many strikes he had taken for her. Dozens of lines of various depth intersected each other, forming angry red patterns woven into his skin.

Calling out to the water, she carefully pulled the liquid towards her, dragging the bucket in her direction.

The grating sound of rusted metal on stone drew Zuko’s gaze up from the ground. He watched as Katara gracefully drew clear water out, forming it into a thin sheet. He nodded his permission when she hesitated.

She used the water to rinse away blood that seeped from his wounds, causing him to hiss on contact. Once she was able to see the cuts better, Katara knew that even her healing couldn’t fix the damage completely. He would have scars there for the rest of his life.

 _Because of me_ , she thought.

Zuko was gritting his teeth at even the slightest pressure the water put on his wounds. The coolness helped a bit, but he still wished he’d have passed out from pain by now.

He craned his neck a bit to watch Katara toss the dirty water in the direction of the waste-hole before submerging her hands in the bucket. As her hands took on the soft blue glow, Zuko turned away and shut his eyes tight, preparing himself for the touch of her hands on his back again.

He could practically feel the power from her on his skin when the door opened again, causing the water to splash to the ground as Katara’s concentration broke.

As they watched Red toss two bundles of food towards them, Katara took a moment to look at the guard. She had only seen him through the door when either Zuko or other guards were coming or going. He was at least an entire head taller than Zuko, and definitely possessed a substantial amount of muscle (albeit hidden beneath a layer or two of protection gained from indulging in too many cakes). He didn’t have any noticeable scars like Zuko or Zogen, but his reddish brown beard and hair were distinguishing enough features.

While his size suggested strength and ability in a fight, his eyes were a warm color, like honey dripping from a hive. Katara searched his eyes for as long as he seemed to be studying her.

He blinked first.

As he left, Katara wondered if he would be the one to hurt her some day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAHH so sorry for the wait. Good news is i have 2 chapters to post today! Yay!


	8. Chapter 8

Once the bearded guard left, Zuko explained that Red was the one charged with making sure Katara stayed alive, as Zogen had put it. He was one of the guards who kept to themselves and didn’t intentionally cause a stir among the inmates. While Katara still seemed unconvinced that he wouldn’t take part in Sherik’s twisted ways, she made an effort to trust Zuko in his conclusion that Red was one of the good guys.

 _But there ARE no good guys here,_ she reminded herself. _Good guys are home. Sokka and Gran Gran and Yue and even Master Pakku are good guys. Fire Nation are the bad ones._ She held on to the last thought for a bit before altering it to include Zuko. _MOST Fire Nation are bad._

Zuko’s movement dragged her from her thoughts. He made to grab one of the packets of food, but Katara placed a light hand on his arm, stopping him.

“I need to fix you first,” she reminded him, shaking her head.

Zuko huffed at her wording, but pulled his hand back, regardless. He turned so that his back faced her, bending his knees so he could lay his head on them as she worked.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Katara once again dipped her hands into the water, letting her energy flow into it to produce the moon-like blue glow. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, laying one on each as lightly as possible. She made smooth circles with her gloved-hands, gradually widening them until her hands met at the vertebrae just below his neck. She then tossed the water and perused her work, determining it to be fully healed (with a bit of scaring).

The original contact on his shoulders pulled a shiver from Zuko’s body. It didn’t hurt, but didn’t exactly feel _good_ either. Instead it felt… invasive. Like some of his being was being replaced by something else. _By HER,_ he realized. Once she started moving in circular patterns, he could feel the muscles in his upper back relax as the was lifted. 

She continued to heal him piece by piece as she replaced the water enclosing her hands and ran them over his torn up flesh. With each pass of her hands, Katara had to put a little more effort into the chi of the water each time, but was pleased at the results. The scaring would be minimal, and his back would be completely healed from open wounds and infection.

Zuko found himself growing loser and loser each minute her hands worked on him. It felt like each time the cool water passed over a wound, the pain would be lifted up and float away in a cloud of evaporation, then be replaced by fresh, cool water droplets that would cling to his skin briefly before being sucked back into her hands. In addition to the surface repair, it seemed that she was also unwinding the knots that had built up in the muscle of his back from the years of stressful living in a prison.

As Katara finally reached the lowest part of his injured back, her bending began to falter. She was able to muster the strength to hold a thin layer against the few lacerations that remained, but only just. As she watched a layer of skin reform across the wounds, she felt the energy from herself faltering, therefore affecting the water’s healing abilities. She had just enough left in her to scab over the last couple inches of the final cut before dropping her hands.

“Good- good as new,” she panted.

Zuko lifted his head from his knees and turned at the jaded sound of her voice. At the sight of her pale, sweat-covered face, he opened his mouth to disapprove of her wearing herself out so much on account of him, but she beat him to it.

“I’m fine,” she interrupted just as he opened his mouth. “I’ll just need a few minutes to recharge.”

Zuko nodded slowly, putting on his shirt and watching over her carefully even as he reached for the food Red had dropped off.

They ate in silence, unrolling the bundles between them to give access to both. There was more than enough for the two of them, but they both knew better than to waste food in this place, so picked at the last pieces until Zuko folded up the empty piece of fabric and set them by the bucket.

As Katara bent small orbs of water for her to drink, it occurred to Zuko that he'd hardly said anything to her since they had argued over him taking the whip for her. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck until she finished her drink and noticed his uncomfortable movements.

“What is it?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

The movement caused some lose pieces of hair to fall to the side, hanging delicately off of her face. Her too-blue eyes were worried. They worried over _him._ Zuko couldn’t take his gaze from her until she lifted her eyebrows, clearly expecting some sort of answer.

He swallowed dryly. “I, um,” he scratched behind his ear and looked away. “Thank you.”

Katara’s gaze softened, a minuscule smile lifting the sides of her lips at his uneasiness.

“It was the least I could do. Since you didn’t give me a choice about how much you’d be hurt…” she trailed off at the end, furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head in annoyance. “But you’re welcome. And… thank you,” she finished.

Zuko shrugged without meeting her eyes. “I still hurt you,” he grumbled.

Katara was about to retort but was cut off as he continued.

“I know, I didn’t have a choice and that it would have been worse if I didn’t. But I still feel bad and it just shouldn’t have happened,” he finished.

Katara just nodded in understanding. She had almost forgotten about her cut arm, and chanced a peek at it. It had already dried, dark red flakes crusting on fabric and the hairs of her arm. She reached up with the other arm to shift some of the sleeve aside to give her a better view of the damage, the action drawing attention of Zuko’s golden eyes.

He watched as she prodded at the sizable wound that ran from her elbow to nearly her underarm.

“Can’t you just heal that like you did with me?” he asked.

“Maybe after I rest. Healing takes a lot out of the bender.”

Zuko drew his mouth into a tight line.

Katara noticed his disapproval, and ensured, “It really doesn’t hurt that much. Honestly. I’ve had worse cuts from an accidental run in with shards of ice while I was training at the North Pole. And I hadn’t even learned how to heal yet.”

Zuko shook his head, still wishing that she’d taken care of herself before him.

“You should at least wash it, if you have to wait until you have enough energy. And make sure your robe doesn’t start to get stuck in it,” he reasoned.

Katara sighed, knowing he was right but really wanted to just lie down now that the prospect of sleep had been raised.

Deciding that the most efficient way to get a better look at her arm was to remove her top, she carefully shook her good arm out from the sleeve. The second arm was a bit more difficult. Each time she even attempted to bend it at the shoulder to shimmy out from the sleeve, the wound tore a bit as the skin was stretched in different angles.

After her third or fourth attempt, she looked pleadingly at Zuko, who was watching but hadn’t made an advance to help her with the task.

“Can you…?” she started.

Zuko nodded before standing up and reaching out a hand to Katara’s good arm. When she looked confused, he gestured to where she was sitting, saying “you’re sitting on the bottom of your robe.”

 _Oh,_ she realized. _Duh._

Grasping his hand, Katara couldn’t help but admire the feeling of his hand in hers and the strength he possessed as he seamlessly lifted her into a standing position with little help from her legs.

She nearly fell over when his other hand fell to the hem of her robe, so warm that she could feel it where the fabric fell at her mid-thigh.

_Keep your cool, Katara. This is no big deal.  He’s just undressing you, that’s all. Actually undressing you with his hands and he’s so warm and smells so good and you should probably say something before he notices how extremely awkward this situation is._

Releasing her hand, Zuko used his other hand to separate the severed fabric from the stickiness of her cut, holding it up and away from her arm as the reality of the situation struck him.

_She wants you to take off her shirt. Of course, she did take yours off earlier. And it’s not like you haven’t seen her before. But this is different and she’s right in front of you and as soon as I lift her shirt there’s just going to be her and her perfect skin and-_

He shook his head forcefully to clear his thoughts and (hopefully) get rid of the blush that had risen to his cheeks.

“You’re gonna have to, erm, lift your arm up,” he said.

Katara obliged, being careful to keep it as straight as possible until it was parallel to her body, pointing straight up into the air. Her other hand took over Zuko’s and held the torn fabric away from her body as both of his hands grasped the bottom of her top.

Then he slowly began to lift his hands upwards.

Katara could feel every inch of skin that his hands touched heat up as he dragged the clothing up to breast bindings, then farther still. When his arms were above her head, her vision was blocked for a bit as the shirt was dragged over her face, but when she could see again, her eyes locked with his.

A moment later, her arms were freed from the clothing, but she made no move break their eye contact.

Zuko had to force himself to look away as he folded her dirty robe and set it aside. When he looked up again, he realized she was still staring at him with mindful eyes. He cleared his throat, breaking the trance.

“Your arm…” he reminded her.

Katara mentally shook herself. _Oh. Right._

She turned to look at her upper arm with a careful eye, taking note of the ugly opaque puss that had formed in some place. She would definitely have to clean it well to prevent infection until she could properly heal it.

Drawing a puddle of water into her hand, she carefully let it run over the strip of jagged flesh, applying more pressure to be sure that it was cleaned out. She even attempted to pull enough energy to make her hands glow, but she was truly wiped out at this point.

Zuko caught her frustrated huff as she tried to heal herself, and immediately felt bad that she had used up her energy on him.

She was just about finished with her pitiful attempt at sterilizing the wound when Zuko spoke up.

“Would it make sense to wrap it for the night?”

Katara chewed on the inside of her cheek as she inspected first her robe, and then his shirt for any part of cloth that would be clean enough to wrap her arm with.

She shook her head. “Wrapping it in a dirty bandage would only make it worse,” she concluded.

When Zuko didn’t respond, she looked up at him. And caught him just in time to see his gaze flitting over her chest.

She moved to fold her arms and cover her breasts as he quickly explained himself.

“Your, uh,” he started awkwardly. “They’re still clean. Enough. You could, um, use a piece to wrap your arm? It may be better than just letting it sit out and get dirty again…”

Katara looked down at the top of her sarashi. He _did_ have a point. While there were a few tears and burn marks from a few days before, the majority of the cloth was still clean and white.

 _Undress in front of a guy I just met, or risk infection._ She weighed the outcomes, deciding that she could make due with sacrificing a bit of the bindings. _Besides. Sleeping would be difficult if the cut reopened every time I moved,_ her thoughts reasoned.

She raised her good arm and tucked her fingers underneath one of the folds, untying the knot with practiced movements. She peeked up at Zuko as she unwrapped one layer of thin cloth, and was surprised to see him looking away. The thought that he cared about her modesty made her chest warm up.

Once she had unwrapped enough to sufficiently cover her arm (and left enough to keep herself decently covered), she realized that she would have to cut it. The only way she thought of was to use an ice knife, but even then, the angle paired with her hurt arm would not allow her to saw at the cloth and hold the piece out away from her body.

She cleared her throat to gather Zuko’s attention. “I uh,” _need your help undressing me again_. “Can you hold this for a bit?” She held out the piece of fabric to him.

He hesitantly moved a bit closer to her, reaching out to hold the soft white cloth as she turned her eyes downward in discomfort.

Katara quickly formed a sharp ice blade with her now-free hand, wielding it to her unwrapped binding and cutting through it with ease.

As she worked to retie the bindings that remained, she could tell just how thin the wrappings had become. While there was enough to cover everything save for the tops of her breasts, the layers were thin enough that her pebbled nipples could almost be seen through the cloth. If it got any colder in her cell, they would be visibly attentive to anyone who looked at her.

Zuko had been straightening out the makeshift bandage, waiting for her to finish getting herself situated. He couldn’t help but notice the shape of her breasts though the fabric, and the soft cocoa color of the mounds as they poked out over the top of the bindings. When she had finished, he reached out to drape one end of the fabric over her hurt arm.

While she probably could have handled wrapping her arm herself, Katara didn’t protest as the boy gently encased her wound in the white fabric. Every few passes, his fingers would run against her skin, drawing goosebumps wherever he made contact with her.

He carefully tucked the end of the wrap into a fold before settling back to observe his work. When he was satisfied that it would hold and protect the cut overnight, he stood up.

“I should probably get back to my bunk. It has to be long past lights out,” he said.

Katara nodded, standing up as he bent to pick up the bucket and scraps of cloth the food was wrapped in.

She watched as he knocked on the door, awaiting the loud creak it always made as it opened.

But no one came to open it.

Zuko knocked again, and then a third time. No answer.

“It must be later than I thought,” he grumbled, setting down the pail against the wall.

He turned back to look at her. “I guess I’m staying here tonight.”

Katara nodded once, playing with a piece of her hair as she glanced over to the single dingy mattress on the ground.

Zuko seemed to catch this, saying, “Sleeping on the ground won’t kill me for one night,” he said lightheartedly.

Katara tugged on the piece of hair in her fingers, biting her lip in consideration.

Just as Zuko was moving to lay down, she stopped him.

“There’s enough room for both of us,” she said quietly.

Zuko looked up, surprised. “Katara…” he started.

“It’s the least I can do after what you’ve done for me today.”

“You already healed me and- “

“Zuko,” she said firmly. “You’re not sleeping on the ground.”

He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the finality in her words. Deciding he was too tired to argue, he made his way over to where she had sat down, taking his own seat on the other side of the mattress.

Katara had taken her robe and opened it to use as a blanket. As she snuggled into the familiar fabric, she felt Zuko turn to his side next to her, the movement causing the mattress to dip down a bit, pulling her towards the center of it. _Towards Zuko,_ she realized. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered. His only answer was a tired sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/reviews are welcomed and encouraged :)


	9. Chapter 9

 

“How certain are you?” Zogen asked, hands coming up to fold under his chin.

“Very,” Sherik confirmed. “She does not hold the answers you seek.”

The general nodded, calm, but unsatisfied. He tapped his food impatiently from underneath his desk, deep in thought.

“She is strong,” Sherik noted.

“Yes.” Of that, Zogen was certain. She had resisted with ferocity from the very beginning, showing great skill in bending as well as in the mind. She also possessed a savage determination, a trait Zogen valued greatly. _How truly unfortunate that she finds herself on the wrong side,_ he thought.

“And the boy…”

 _Yes, the Fire Prince seems to have taken a liking to her._ Though Zogen himself had witnessed the event that permanently damaged both Zuko’s physical and spiritual being, the boy had shown fortitude that was supposedly lost years ago when it came to the girl. The general considered the connection the two shared as he listened to the guard’s suggestion.

“… I believe it would greatly lift the spirits of your men,” Sherik finished.

Zogen nodded deeply, in doing so granting permission of Sherik to do whatever he felt necessary in order to break her down to the point where she could be pushed off the edge at any time.

And he would be there at this time. There hasn’t been anyone this interesting in a long while, and Zogen was greatly looking forward to watching her progress. When she was ready to submit, he would be there, and would make sure the boy would have a front-row seat.

 

*

 

Zuko impatiently waited for the girl beside him to wake up. He’d been up maybe an hour or so ago, waking with the sun. He could have gotten up to try knocking on the door again, but that would mean giving up his time with Katara leaning against him.

They were back-to-back, their bodies flush against the other. They were so close that Zuko could feel her steady breathing flowing from her body into his.

At one point, her rhythm was interrupted by a waking breath. While her heart began to pick up speed due to wakefulness, Zuko hoped his wasn’t loud enough to be heard.

What if she called him out on being awake? Would she ask why he didn’t get up?

Thankfully, Katara just yawned and made to stretch her limbs.

She had shifted towards his side of the mattress sometime in the night, getting her robe entangled in her legs in the process.

As she was struggling to unwrap her legs, she felt the mattress shift as Zuko sat up from beside her. She peeked over at him, taking in his ruffled hair and slight flush from sleep.

She nearly opened her mouth to say “good morning,” but the awkwardness of the situation hit her at that moment.

Here they were, strangers until a few days ago, waking up in bed next to each other. They had been pressed so close that Katara immediately felt the loss of his heat upon moving away. She even remembered her mostly-asleep self seeking his warmth when she’d been awoken by the chill of the cell.

 _Does he mind that I invaded his space?_ she thought. _Did he even notice?_

She watched as Zuko stood up, reaching his arms high above his head in a stretch. He closed his eyes as he rotated his torso while keeping feet planted in place. When they opened, he addressed Katara.

“Hello,” his voice was raspy with sleep.

“Hi,” hers was squeaky with nerves.

“I guess I should, um, try the door again,” he suggested while running a hand through his messy hair.

Katara only nodded, pushing herself off the ground and straightening her clothes.

This time, there was an answer at the door.

Red waited a moment while the cell’s two occupants considered the other. They both seemed to be unsure of what to say, as the weight of the previous day settled over them like a heavy cloak.

The guard, while typically stoic, took pity on their awkwardness.

“You’ll have to come back soon with food and water,” he suggested, giving them a chance to continue this exchange later. “And maybe a set of cleaner clothes,” he added as an afterthought, wrinkling his nose for effect.

Zuko nodded, then turned to look at Katara over his shoulder. “I’ll, uh, see you soon.”

Once they left, Katara realized how badly she had to go to the bathroom. She hadn’t been able to with Zuko staying in her room last night, and was grateful for the few personal minutes she had while he was away.

Afterwards, she took her time stretching out her sore muscles before going through bending stances. She was determined to keep in shape for when she had a chance to use her bending, certain that that was how she would be able to escape.

 _How long does it take to fill a bucket of water and grab clothes?_ She thought when her practice was through.

It ended up taking about ten minutes after that for him to finally push the door open. He was nudging the door with his shoulder as both hands were full with the bucket, a bundle of clothes, and a smaller bundle of food wrapped in cloth.

Standing up from where she had been doing crunches on the mattress, Katara relieved him of the clothes and food before he let the door fall back into place.

“I tried to find smaller clothes, but they still might be too big. I grabbed a belt you could use, though,” he said, setting down the water and gesturing to the bundle.

Katara had started unfolding the articles of clothing, inspecting them. There was a light undershirt, a dark brown tunic, loose pants that definitely looked too big, and a thicker shirt made of soft wool that had gone threadbare in some places. All showed signs of dirt and wear, but they were cleaner than her current clothes (which she had been in for more than tree days straight).

“They’ll work, thank you,” she smiled genuinely as she thanked Zuko before folding up and setting the clothes aside.

He had already begun to lay out the food on the cloth it was wrapped in—dates, nuts, a large chunk of clearly stale bread, and a few pieces of mystery jerky.

As they ate, Katara was reminded of home when she bit into the rough strip of dried meat.

Zuko was also chewing on the jerky, making a face at the strong taste of it.

Katara would have laughed or poked fun at him for it, only she kept her eyes downcast, trying to not let the tears fall at the thought of home.

He noticed, of course, but gave her a few moments to collect herself.

When she finally looked up, she gave him a weak smile, her eyes watery.

“I know the meat’s bad, but it’s not _that_ bad,” Zuko joked, hoping she would appreciate him trying to make light of whatever she was upset about.

Katara rolled her eyes good naturedly, shaking her head at him. “It’s my brother,” she explained. “He could always tell you exactly what kind of meat anything is, down to the time it was killed. Some weeks he doesn’t eat anything else. I never thought it was possible for someone to survive only on meat, but he proved me wrong.”

Zuko smiled at her. “Even if he could figure out what this stuff is, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“It kind of reminds me of arctic haremonkeys. But bigger.”

“Bigger… maybe an eaglefox? Polar bear dog?”

“No!” Katara protested, “You can’t _eat_ a polar bear dog. That’s not-“

“I’m pretty sure the people who run this place don’t really care about how right or wrong something is,” Zuko pointed out.

“Even the worst people wouldn’t kill one though. A polar bear dog is the only thing who loves others more than himself. Even if someone was going to eat them, they’d probably change their mind once they realized how sweet they are...”

Zuko was amused at the way she spoke about the creatures. It was…cute.

 _Cute?_ He thought. _Since when do you find someone CUTE?_

He realized she was still gushing on about polar bear dogs, and popped another piece of fruit into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and enjoying the sound of her voice.

“… and she laid with the hiker _all night_ until the storm calmed down. He never would have made it back if it weren’t for Killota. She just had pups this past summer. Four of them. They’re still growing, but when they’re big enough, they’ll be given a chance to pick who they want to be with. Sokka has been hoping that this one with a little grey spot behind his ear will pick him. He’d love to have someone to go hunting with. Ever since our father left, there hasn’t been anyone around to keep him company during long hunts.”

Katara ended her story by ripping off pieces of the last piece of jerky, seeming to realize that she’d been babbling.

Zuko cupped his hands in the bucket, taking a few sips of water before admitting, “I’ve never seen a polar bear dog. Or many animals, really.”

Katara tilted her head at him.

 _Which is really cute._ _What? No, stop this,_ he chastised his thoughts.

“Do you not have many animals in the Fire Nation?” she inquired.

“Other than kangaroorats and turtleducks in the ponds, not really. Some birdlizards when they come down in the winter. But nothing big like a polar bear dog or mooselion.”

“Really? Not even an ostrichhorse or badgermole? You had to have been outside of the Capitol at least once.”

“Nope,” he told her. “Never.”

“Huh,” she contemplated that for a moment.

Zuko finished the last chunk of bread, rolling up the cloth as he watched her. She had on her thinking face, which involved her crinkling up her nose and furrowing her eyebrows. He couldn’t help but think about how much her expression resembled that of a child receiving an undercooked sea slug when they’d been expecting a cake.

Katara seemed to have finished whatever thoughts she was juggling, because her face straightened out and she shrugged. “I think you’d like polar bear dogs,” was all she said before pulling water from the pail for a drink.

“Animals smell,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

Katara glanced over at him. “Not really. They probably smell better than me at this point,” she laughed, holding out her arm to inspect the dirty sleeves.

“I could bring you some soap and you can wash the ones you’re in now.”

She nodded, reaching to pick up the pair of pants and undershirt he’d brought her. She stood up and removed her dirty top, hesitating before glancing over to see him picking at a loose thread on his sleeves.

When he looked up to see her torso clad in only her bindings, he stood up and made to leave to give her some privacy.

“Wait,” she stopped him. “You don’t have to… I mean you can still stay if you just turned around…” She paused and let out a breath before continuing more quietly. “I just don’t want to be alone,” she sighed.

Zuko looked at her for a moment before nodding and turning to face the wall adjacent to where she was standing. He could hear the rustle of her unwrapping the dirty cloth binding her chest, and then the soft thump of it hitting the ground.

Once her clothes had gone, Katara quickly used the water to run over her body, washing away dirt and dried blood that had stuck to her over the past few days. Tossing away the dirty water, she slipped on the loose pants and undershirt before tying the belt across her waist, holding the pants up.

She looked down at the wraps that lay on the floor, trying to think of a time where she hadn’t been wearing them. It felt amazing to not have them restricting her body. The undershirt did a good enough job of keeping her breasts covered, and she was grateful of the comfort she was now in.

“I’m done,” she said to Zuko, who turned back and looked at the clothes she had chosen. They were both clearly too big, but would work.

She piled her dirty clothes and set them aside for when she would be able to wash them.

The shirt she was now wearing left her arms mostly exposed, displaying the wound that had scabbed over from the day before.

Katara caught Zuko staring at her arm, and quickly moved to turn it away from him.

She was unable to pull it back fast enough to prevent her wrist from being locked in his strong hand.

The force of his grip may have made her a little uncomfortable, but Katara was much too focused on the distance that separated them. Or, distance that _didn’t_ separate them.

Zuko tried to ignore the soft gasp that escaped her as he perused the wound. It wasn’t the worst she had endured since being brought here, but the weight of guilt that he caused it lay heavy in his gut.

He let his fingers dance over her hand in what he hoped was an apologetic gesture.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured quietly before releasing her hand.

Katara focused her eyes on the water in the pail beside her, deliberately avoiding looking into his intense gaze. “You did what you had to do.”

“I wish I didn’t have to-“

“I know,” she cut him off. She slowly leveled her gaze to him, then forced an awkward smile.

Zuko nodded, wiping his hands on his pants before questioning “Can you still fix it?”

“It’s already started healing, but I can speed the process a bit. It usually works better right as it happens,” she explained while beginning to pull water from the pail 

Once again, Zuko was mesmerized with the graceful way she lay the water over her skin. The glowing was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and it surprised him even after seeing it many times before. The process was over in a few minutes, and the cut was all but gone, only leaving a thin mark.

 

*

 

The guard room was bustling with the usual early-evening activity when Sherik walked in. Other than the morning and evening checks, there really wasn’t much to do as a guard. Most of the day was spent lounging around, occasionally checking to be sure the prisoners’ tasks were being done.

The senior guard cleared his throat to get the attention of the dozen or so men gathered at various tables. Most looked up from their reading or pai sho games to acknowledge him.

“As most of you know, a very important prisoner has arrived a few days ago. A waterbending girl from the tribes.” He was interrupted by a few hoots at the mention of a girl in the facility, an unusual occurrence.

When the men quieted down, Sherik continued. “While she unfortunately does not have the information the General had hopped, she will remain here until he finds a reason not to hold her.”

As he continued, Red shifted his focus back to his writing. He had, of course, already been briefed on the situation, and didn’t care to hear it a second time. A few words like “opportunity” and “usefulness” still got through, and he huffed quietly at Sherik’s choice of words.

When he finally ended his spiel, Red looked up distastefully to watch a handful of his fellow guards raise their hands, eagerly volunteering their services. Sherik exited the room with two other men, leaving the rest to go back to their activities.

Moments after returning to his letter, he felt a new presence as someone sat across from him.

He looked up and relaxed to see a man older than Sherik settle down in the seat.

Yiram had been at the facility longer than anyone else, even Zogen. He was the only guard to remain after the transition from Azulon to Ozai, and, generally didn’t speak much.  He shuffled a pile of cards in his hands as he waited for Red’s attention.

The ginger-haired man set his quill down, cocking his head slightly in question.

Yiram just shook his disgustedly, pausing his shuffling for a moment to point with his thumb in the direction Sherik and the others had just exited.

He gestured to the parchment, and Red carefully slid his note across the table, mindful of the still-wet ink. He wouldn’t usually be so willing to share his personal letters, but he respected Yiram more than most, and therefore allowed him an in on his personal life.

As the older man read through the page leisurely, setting down his cards once finished.

“Like the sun misses the flower, eh?” he commented, smirking at Red.

“I haven’t seen her in almost three years,” he said. “I ought to miss her a fair amount.”

Yiram just grunted, handing the letter back before shifting through his cards once more.

Red watched for a moment in silence before speaking. “He wants to break her.”

“Mmm.”

“I don’t know why.”

Grunt.

“I think she’s getting along with the prince.”

That caught his attention. Yiram looked up from the cards, a small smile ghosting his face as he waited for Red to say more.

“She’s strong, as of now anyways. And he needs allies. I think it’s a good thing,” he said.

The old man pursed his lips.

“I know it’s going to get a lot worse,” Red started, “But if she can hold on to herself, she could be good for him.” 

Yiram nodded thoughtfully before rising. “Finish that,” he pointed at the letter.

Red was already dipping his quill by the time the old man moved away from the table.

Once finished, Red sent it using his messenger hawk before heading back to his position in the hallway outside of the waterbender’s cell.

He left to get supper just a few minutes later to escape from the noises coming from inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a late update. Enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: violence and non-con.

The door swung open with more force than usual as Sherik and two other guards walked in.

Without preamble, the largest guard reached for Katara, grabbing her by her clothing and pulling her with such force she nearly tripped as her feet moved from beneath her.

Zuko made to intercept, but the other guard was prepared for this, and caught the boy's wrists in an iron grip, pulled tightly against the guard's chest.

"Put him on the wall," Sherik ordered the second guard. "Let him watch."

As Zuko was roughly locked into the manacles, Katara continued her violent struggle, kicking and squirming as she was dragged across the room. Her fist completely missed its mark on the man's nose as she was pushed downward. Hitting the mattress with a surprised huff, she immediately kicked out towards her attacker, only to be stopped by large hands wrapping around her ankles, restraining her legs.

The other guard had finished with Zuko and now gripped her wrists, effectively immobilizing her and preventing any farther successful struggle.

That didn’t stop her from trying, though.

They let her struggle for a few minutes. Probably just to laugh at her, she realized as she caught the smirk on Sherik’s face as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, next to Zuko.

Katara watched as the older guard leaned in to say something in his ear.

She met Zuko’s eye for a brief second, letting the reality of the situation sink in as her energy began to fade, her struggles becoming weaker. He kept his eyes on hers just long enough for her to see his face pale before he turned his glare to the ground.

Fear sunk in even deeper as the two men holding her seemed to grow tired of waiting, the one at her arms reaching to pull at the fabric at her shirt, releasing one of her hands in the process.

Her punch to the guard’s chin was met with a harder hit to her face, knocking her head to the side and making her spit up blood.

The other man pulled himself onto her legs, using his weight to hold her lower body down, preventing her hips and legs from being used. Rough hands tugged at her shirt, lifting it up to her neck, exposing the dirty white sarashi.

She could do nothing as her arms were now being held tighter than before, her wrists digging into the rough stone ground.

The guard smirked at her before lighting a flame on the tip of his finger and bringing it down to her chest.

The fabric protecting her breasts from their eyes was burned through and fell to the sides of her body before she could even register.

Desperately trying to free her arms to cover herself, the other guard went to work removing her loose pants, burning through the belt in a way similar to her bindings.

Katara’s now frantic struggles were enough to throw the larger man off of her for a moment, and she used that advantage to roll over and headbutt the other guard. She felt a surge of pride as she heard the telltale pop of his nose breaking.

Just as she was struggling to stand up with her pants falling down, she felt a sudden heat blazing into the skin on the back of her thigh.

She could barely process the sound of Zuko’s strained “No!”- _he’s still here?-_ as she fell back in pain. While they had burned her with the metal rods before, nothing could prepare her for the direct contact of flame on her flesh.

She couldn’t prevent the scream that escaped her.

In her sudden shock and pain, the guard that had burned her pushed her onto her back, the other one taking a step back to nurse his now broken nose. The man on top of her was able to draw her pants down to her ankles, ripping away her remaining underclothes, and then drawing himself from a flap in his pants.

Just as she was certain she would black out from the pain of the fire, the man reached down with one hand to guide himself into her struggling body.

Katara couldn't help but cry out as he roughly pushed his hips against hers. He wasted no time at all before his thrusts started up, sometimes slow and deep, while other times frantic and shallow.

Either way, it still hurt.

Once she'd gotten over the shock of the initial pain, Katara began to fight again. She opted to cease trying to buck him off with her hips, but her free hands were able to score long red scratches down his back. After slapping her hard across the face, he gathered both of her hands in one of his while she was stunned, leaving her with no way to fight back. Her burn prevented her from using her legs, as it was.

A few agonizing minutes later, she heard a grunt from above her, and felt something warm and sticky seep into her, mixing with the blood. She remembered Sokka giving her the “ferretbirds and stingerbees” talk, and cringed internally when she realized what had just happened.

Pushing himself heavily off of her chest (she could swear she felt a rib break), he stood up as the other guard took his place on top of her, the blood from his nose dripping onto her chest.

She could hear the clanging as Zuko resisted, spitting fire from his mouth. Sherik murmured something, effectively preventing the boy from threatening him and his guards.

There was less resistance this time, but the pain was even more unbearable than before. She couldn’t help but think it was due to her injuring him earlier, but couldn’t find it in herself to regret it.

Every few strokes was accompanied by an almost pleading whimper. 

She just wanted it to _stop_.

Eventually (it seemed to last forever), she was able to focus enough to retreat into herself, trying to drown out some of the pain and embarrassment from being so exposed.

She flinched in pain when he bit down hard on her nipple. It was unlike any pain she’d ever felt before. The past few days had gotten her somewhat used to it, of course, but this was something else. It felt as if her entire body was seizing up in pain.

 She refused to look, but could tell he had drawn blood.

He continued to do… _something_ to it that made the inner agony even worse. Her back arched from the pain, and she let out a guttural moan resembling some kind of animal.  When the pain persisted, she risked a small “please” in hopes that he’d stop and just get on with it.

To her relief, he looked up from her breast, smiling at her sickeningly. There was blood around his lips, making him look like a polar leopard after a kill.

Katara went back to making her mind blank. She was unable to drown out all of the pain, but it helped.

His movements began speeding up, and she eventually felt him finish in the way the last guard had, grateful that it would finally be over.

Before leaving her, though, the man reached for her injured breast, giving it a rough squeeze before wiping the blood across her face, painting her like some disgusting work of art.

She didn’t risk moving when the two guards headed over to the door, exiting without sparing her a glance. She summoned the energy to lift her head enough to see Sherik unlocking Zuko’s manacles.

Struggling to curl in on herself to somewhat shield her body from the remaining men, she was relieved and scared to hear Sherik open the door and speak.

“I”ll see you tomorrow.”

The door closed, leaving her alone with Zuko and the heavy silence.

 

*

 

A thousand thoughts were running through Zuko’s mind. He desperately wished he could stop them, but Sherik had threatened to make it even worse if he interfered. It’s not like he could do much anyways, from his place on the wall, but he did take pleasure in the way the guards looked fearful when he had blown fire at them.

He could tell Katara was in pain. Even if she held tears at bay and only broke into noises a few times, her face, clearly visible to him, told him all he needed to know.

He knew Sherik had intentionally positioned his men so that Zuko had a clear view of everything that was happening to her. This was as much his punishment as hers.

He suspected it was because he had been helping her. They had to realize by now that Katara couldn’t tell Zogen where her father was, and he knew Sherik was the best, and smartest, interrogator there was. Or maybe it was because of her attack on the guards? But that was also Zuko’s fault. He could have, should have stopped her. Or maybe if he had just brought her food and water as he’d been told, she could have been spared.

Either way, he knew he could do nothing without risking her safety, or life. And that hurt him more than any wounds they could inflict on him.

As it was, the metal chains that had surrounded his wrists had rubbed the skin raw from his struggles and attempts at being closer to her, trying and wishing desperately that there was something he could do.

And even now, with Sherik gone, he couldn’t do anything. The damage was done. And he couldn’t even do something as simple as get her water or bandages. The helplessness ripped him apart, and caused him to hit the wall with all of his strength, breaking off rock and causing his knuckles to bleed.

He wanted to lash out again, but the flinch he caught from the girl curled up on the now-bloodied mattress stopped him.

She was bleeding and trembling, whether from the coldness of the cell hitting her bare skin, or from the trauma, he wasn’t sure. Her burn was bad- he could recognize the heat from it even from where he was chained to the wall.

He could tell from the bruise already forming on her side that they had broken a rib or two, and he knew she may not be able to heal something internal like that.

What was worse, she hadn’t moved since the second guard had got off of her. She hadn’t made a move to get up, and hadn’t even lashed out when the guards released her.

It seemed that all her fight had gone out of her ever since the second guard…

But he would have to put aside the pain raging inside of him for her. His anger would do nothing to help her, right now, and may even make matters worse.

He vowed to do better, next time. And to help her in any way possible.

This was, after all, his fault.

  

*

  

She refused to look at Zuko, but could feel his eyes on her. Instead, she just lay there. For how long, she wasn’t sure, but she knew that he was there, and knew that he was probably disgusted with what he saw. At _her._ She couldn’t handle seeing the look in his eyes at seeing how weak she was.

Not to mention that she was in too much pain to move at the moment. 

Her burn was by far the worse, but her side was hurting from where the large guard had put all of his weight on it. Curling in on herself hurt it even more, but it was better than leaving herself exposed.

Eventually, she took a few deep breaths to collect herself before gathering the discarded shirt from the ground. She had to hold back a groan as she slid her arms through the sleeves, her shoulder pulling painfully at the movement.

She had to pause and take a few more breaths before reaching for her pants, struggling to get them on while trying to keep herself as covered as possible.

_Not that it really matters,_ she thought bitterly. _He’s already seen it all._

As the fabric grazed the burn on her thigh, she couldn’t hold back the whimper of pain. She was never going to get used to the feeling of skin scorched off of her body.

At her noise of pain, she finally caught movement to her left. Zuko had taken a step towards her, no doubt intending to help her finish dressing in any way that could cause her less pain.

Katara tensed. “Don’t,” she said quietly. She was ashamed when her voice shook, even from just one word.

She heard his steps stop, and slowly turned her leg to look at the burn there. A quick glance up told her that Zuko had turned his head away, and he stood a good ten feet from her, head bowed.

She couldn’t get a good view, but she could see where her skin had rubbed raw from moving against the mattress, instead of the usual bubbles that accompanied her other burns.

What also surprised her was the black tint around the wound. _Huh._

Knowing there wasn’t much to do until she should get water to rinse it out, she carefully pulled the leg of the pants up over it, trying her best not to damage it farther.

As she finished covering herself. She caught sight of her underclothes lying in piles, but knew they’d do nothing now, damaged as they were. They’d probably make her wounds hurt even more, anyways.

It was then that she risked a look at Zuko. He was still standing where he was a few moments ago, but was now turned to look straight at her, now that she was covered. He seemed to be searching here eyes for the answer to a question, but she didn’t know what it was.

Katara sighed and just shook her head. She opted to lay back onto the bloody mattress on her side, avoiding letting her injured leg and ribs take more pressure than they needed to. All she wanted to do was sleep so she could stop the thoughts swirling around in her mind.

She didn’t notice Zuko’s movement until he was kneeling beside her, facing her back. She forced herself to remain still, hoping he’d think she was asleep.

“Katara…“ he started, but broke off.

She sighed shakily. “You don’t have to say anything,” she mumbled. “Maybe Red’ll let you out and you can sleep in your own room tonight. I don’t think you’d want to…” She left the implication hanging, hoping he’d get it.

Zuko said nothing, knowing she didn’t want to hear it. He looked at her for a long moment before getting up and knocking on the door as quietly as possible.

Red answered almost immediately, letting Zuko out. He couldn’t help but peek inside to check in on the girl as the door closed. It had been unusually quiet, with only a few screams by Zuko piercing the halls. He couldn’t help but admire her strength, but shook his head sadly as the door closed, leaving her in the room alone.

 

*

 

Katara was just drifting off to sleep when she heard the door creak open. She tensed, thinking the guards had come back for more. She couldn’t help the small trembles as footsteps came closer and closer. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could, hoping to just drown it all out this time.

It was the soft sound of a bowl being set down that made her open her eyes slowly. She hesitantly turned around to see a bowl of broth placed on the ground, with a pair of familiar hands unwrapping a roll of bandages.

She struggled to sit up, but shrugged Zuko off when he reached forward to help her. She went for the bucket of water first, desperate for some relief on her leg. She pulled up the leg of her pants as far as they would go, freeing the wound. It took all of her remaining strength just to pull water and rinse off the wound. Healing it would have to wait, but the cool liquid gave her enough relief for now.

Zuko wordlessly held out the bandages along with a small container of yellowy ointment. Katara dipped her fingers in the ointment, spreading it as gently as she could over her burn.

Wrapping it was a little more difficult, and she begrudgingly let Zuko help her, without meeting his eyes. She was careful to not let him touch her.

After that, she drank her broth, the warm liquid seeming to sooth the heavy and uncomfortable feeling that had settled into her stomach.

Zuko silently picked at a few rolls he had brought along, offering her one when she dared to look at him again. Their fingers grazed when she reached out to accept it, and she quickly pulled back like she had been burned. He looked at her with sad, regretful eyes as he set the bread next to her bowl instead.

Once they finished eating, in silence, Zuko moved the pail of water and remaining bandages over next to a wall. He took the bowl, knocking and leaving without saying anything.

He returned before Katara could even lay back down. He was carrying an armful of blankets, along with a large grey sheet.

Wordlessly, he began laying the sheet over the part of the mattress that was unoccupied, then finished covering the bloodied mess when Katara moved off to let him finish. He then piled most of the blankets (all a bit worn out and thin) onto the ground next to the mattress, handing one to the girl to his left.

Katara was confused until she saw him lay down on the pile of blankets, facing towards her.

“You don’t have to-“

“I know,” he said. “But I won’t leave you alone.”

His voice was certain, but gentle.

Katara sighed. “Where did you get these?” she asked, holding up a corner of her blanket.

Zuko smiled a bit. “Red.”

Katara seemed surprised, but chose to accept it without comment, and settled down onto her bed.

They just lay there, watching each other without talking until Zuko closed his eyes.

“You should try to sleep,” he said softly, eyes still closed.

Katara said nothing, just watching his face in the dim light. After awhile, though, she spoke, more to herself than to the boy who she was sure had fallen asleep.

“Thank you.” It was barely more than a whisper.

Zuko surprised her by letting the corners of his mouth tilt up just slightly.

She spent the time it took for her to drift off convincing herself that he smiled in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo sorry for the late update. I’ve been distracted reading “The Black Games” series by Mrs Pettyfer. If you haven’t read it, I would highly recommend it. It is most definitely the most amazing work/group of works I have ever read, fics from any fandom and novels alike. I could gush about it for hours, honestly. Anyways, I’m taking a break between the second and final part to focus on this story. Trying to buy more time because it’s a WIP, and I can’t bear the thought of reading it unfinished.
> 
> Anyways, I apologize for this chapter. It was draining to write. But I want readers to understand the pain Katara will be going through. It’s not a happy story, but necessary. The hurt/comfort aspect will be worth it, I promise.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for non-con

Zuko left the cell early that morning, opting to not go back asleep after his natural clock awoke him with the rise of the sun. He brushed by Red as he opened the door, heading towards the washrooms, intent on rinsing the blood from his hands and gathering more medical supplies.

He was stopped by a strong, but gentle hand on his shoulder.

He quickly scanned the hall, and only turned back towards Red when he verified that they were alone. “What is it?” he all but hissed at the guard.

“Prince Zuko, I-“

“Don’t _call_ me that,” he said through gritted teeth.

Red exhaled a deep sigh. “How is she?”

Zuko barked out a humorless laugh. “What do _you_ think? She…” he trailed off, not really sure he wanted to continue.

The two men took turns glancing around both ends of the hall while they moved to a more secluded area, one that could be easily used to see any oncoming personnel.

“He’ll take everything. I’ve seen it before. And he’s in no shortage of those willing to help him accomplish this goal.”

“How much more can they possibly take from her?”

Red looked at him with serious dark golden eyes. “Sherik is known for his… skills. He’ll be able to break her, and Zogen won’t have him stop until she yields. It’s in his nature.”

“And then what?” Zuko asked.

“Then…” he took a moment to breathe. “I suppose he’ll have her killed.”

Zuko paled, shutting his eyes, but wasn’t all that surprised. “How long does she have?” he asked quietly, without looking up.

“I’ve never seen him chose to not take his time. He’ll work slowly. And I’m sure Zogen won’t put an end to it while there are so many willing… participants. A couple of weeks, if she’s as strong as you say.”

“Will she make it that long? You think all the guards will let her get away with a single burn?” Zuko demanded.

Red studied him for a moment before responding. “She’s strong. Yiram had heard the General say as much. But I fear that may work against her, in this situation-“

“Can he be ready? Before she… she…” Zuko trailed off and pressed his knuckles hard against his temples in frustration.

Red considered for a moment. “Sherik has been requested for his skills at the Boiling Rock. He and three other firebending guards will leave on the solstice. I believe that is our opportunity,” he spoke quickly. “If Yiram’s sources are correct, there would only be Zogen and a handful of other firebenders. Our allies would stand a much better chance then.”

“The solstice… that’s over a month away! What-“

“Prince Zuko, lower your voice,” Red hushed, taking a peek around to be sure he wasn’t heard before turning back to the prince. He rubbed a large hand over his beard. “I feel,” he started, “that the girl-“

“Katara,” Zuko interrupted.

Red corrected himself, “Katara. She may give us the advantage. Even with you at your full strength,” he paused to run a hand in the air at Zuko’s malnourished and less-than-ideal physical physique, “It would be difficult for you, me, and the others to face off against no less than thirty of Zogen’s men. But we would be fighting with fire. The girl- Katara- she has strength. Natural ability. I’ve seen it from when she sent those two guards running for their lives using just a splash of water.”

Zuko considered this carefully. He hadn’t intended on even attempting to bring anyone else into this, let alone a heavily watched over prisoner. But Red was right. He knew she could fight, and would want to, if it meant being able to see her tribe and brother again. But a thought nagged his hopes.

“What if she doesn’t… what if she can’t… how can we know what Sherik has planned in terms of…” Zuko couldn’t continue as the image of her screaming in pain burned behind his eyes. “You said yourself she may only have a week or two. What if a month is just too long?”

“She will have to be even stronger than you’ve already seen. She possesses the power to heal herself, a huge advantage in this situation. And Zogen takes no interest in having her killed so quickly. At least physically.”

“And what about… the not physical? What if she can’t hold on for another month?” Zuko sounded desperate, fearing that Zogen would know right when he got to her, and that it would be far too soon.

“That,” Red told him, “will be entirely up to her.”

 

*

 

Katara woke up cold and alone. She immediately reached for her thick robe, but stopped when a burning pain erupted from her leg. _Oh yeah. That._

Taking a few moments to breathe through the pain, she eventually hiked up her pantleg enough to see that the bandages had soaked through, and a greenish substance was oozing out through the fabric, mixed with the blood.

She groaned, half in pain, and half in annoyance. Her grandmother had taught her all that she knows about the body and injuries, and Katara knew that the signs of infection were already setting in. She would have to at least wash it out more thoroughly today if she wasn’t able to heal it.

“I brought you water,” the voice made her jump. She hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

Katara muttered a “thanks” when Zuko set down the water. She began cleansing her leg right away, studiously avoiding looking at him.

The boy knelt a few paces away from her, giving her space as she worked. Katara could feel him staring at her, and knew his eyes would be full of emotions she so desperately wished she could ignore.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said sternly.

“Katara I-“

“No. Stop.” She didn’t think she could bear the piteous apology right now. Not from him.

The defensiveness in her voice caused Zuko to clap his mouth shut, his teeth clicking together.

After finishing up rinsing and wrapping her leg (with the supplies from last night) as best as she could, she made to stand up and stretch her sore limbs. The broken ribs seemed to have other ideas, though, and she barely had time to bite her lip to prevent the cry from escaping at the stabbing pain blossoming at her side.

The bruise was already a deep purple with ugly green tinting the sides. She gently prodded where the bones should be lining up, and determined that only two were out of place.

Zuko never said anything, only watched her with an empty gaze as she patched herself up as best as she could. He lent a hand by helping her bind her ribs tightly, but said nothing.

When he offered a chunk of bread, Katara took it gratefully, nibbling it in small portions while taking in sips of water until it was gone.

They still hadn’t breached the silence. Which was just as well, in her opinion. She thought she could use a bit more rest, anyways. _Gran Gran always said that the best healer was sleep._

She peeked at Zuko from the sides of her eyes as she lay down on her back, the least painful position for her ribs. Her leg was going to hurt either way, but at least on her back she didn’t have to worry about shifting her ribs around as they healed. Katara closed her eyes after determining that the boy still wasn’t going to say anything else, and willed herself into a hesitent doze.

Zuko watched over her as she slept, making sure the bandages around her ribcage remained tight and in-place when she shifted a bit. He wasn’t even completely sure she was fully asleep, as the hard lines of her face never relaxed. Her eyebrows remained drawn in, her mouth stuck in a slight frown. She looked every bit as tense as he felt.

 

*

 

Not one to sit around idly, Zuko spent the time the girl slept by doing some mild workouts. He had recently started them up again, and was glad to feel his muscles getting back into shape again. He still hadn’t worked his way up to bending again (which was prohibited for inmates), but figured that Katara’s solitary cell would be a suitable place to practice away from prying eyes, once he was ready.

He remembered some of the most basic exercises that his Uncle Iroh had taught him when he was younger. The older man’s calm demeanor seemed to work wonders on him while the multitude of person trainers had failed. He had visited Zuko, once, but since then the rules had changed, and Zogen allowed no outsiders in the prison currently. Iroh had brought his nephew scrolls of old poetry (which had since disappeared), a few sacks of tea leaves, and two pairs of socks. Zuko always did have a habit of getting holes in them, and never bothering to have them mended. Maybe Katara could teach him to do it himself.

He was just beginning a new set of crunches when a soft knock preceded the door opening. Red poked his head inside, seeming surprised to see the young man in the midst of the physical activity. He bowed his head slightly before clearing his throat.

“I am to escort you back to your chambers,” he said firmly.

 _There must be other guards around,_ Zuko thought. The man was always soft and polite towards him.

Zuko checked on Katara one last time before getting up and exiting the room with the guard. Once they were in the hallway, he asked “Am I starting chore duties again?”

Red halted and shot him a sad look. “I’m afraid-“

He broke off as a group of guards came barreling down the hallway, Sherik following them more calmly. He paused in front of Zuko, smirked a little, and continued on, intentionally knocking him into the wall on the way. Zuko followed their path with his eyes until they slowed in front of the door he had just exited.

Red’s hand was around his arm before he could even register that he was turning back to follow the guards.

“Your highness,” Red pleaded. “There is nothing you can do. I have orders to bring you to your cell until further notice.”

Zuko all but growled, “I shouldn’t be _leaving_ her when I could be-“

“You cannot do any good there, Prince Zuko. It’s inevitable.”

Zuko let himself be dragged back the rest of the way to his room, where he was then instructed to stay away from the isolation corridor until Red came to get him later.

 

*

 

Katara was awake the moment Red had opened the door. She had continued to feign sleep until Zuko had left, however. He had left the water, so she figured she could try and heal herself a bit. The food and rest had made her feel a little less weak, although the pain was still making her head a bit fuzzy and her hands shaky.

The water felt right in her grasp, and she savored the feeling of the cool liquid fanning out on her leg. She let her mind drift to the moon, where she got her power from. Images of moonlight illuminating leaves on small plants reminded her that all living things grow, and that, while they gain strength from the sun, the moon offers protection during the dark nights.

She didn’t even notice at first that her hands had begun to glow. All her thoughts were of the moon and how long it had been since she could see it. It was even getting more difficult to sense it. The room was always dark unless Zuko or another firebender was there. They could light the candles on the walls. More for their benefit, she thought. Her eyes always had been used to the darkness.

Her eyes flicked down, drawn to the blue. Her skin had regrown where it had been burnt off, and only a large pink scar remained. She let the water fall from her hands, enjoying the soft _splash_ it produced as it hit the ground. She did not have enough left in the bucket to even attempt at healing her ribs, and knew that she probably couldn’t do it anyways. Bones always were difficult to get to from the surface. She was lucky that her waterbender body was able to heal naturally a bit quicker than others, but they would still hurt like a bitch for a few more days, at least.

Suddenly, the need to pee need hit her like it had when she and Zuko were eating. She had briefly considered asking him to help her make her way to the hole in the ground, but pushed that aside. While she figured she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t make fun of her or anything, they still only met a handful of days ago.

Katara regretted not asking for help the moment she tried to stand up. Her tiredness from the lack of proper nutrition and exercise combined with the ache in her side made the trudge over to the corner slow and painful. Once she had relieved herself, she was glad to sit down on her mattress again.

She had just begun to do some basic stretches to let out some of the tension in her muscles when the door slammed open and revealed two guards she hadn’t seen before. One immediately hurried over to her, reaching her before she had the chance to finish standing up. He knocked her back down with an arm the size of a log, knocking the breath out of her.

She couldn’t even fight them off this time. A few kicks and weak slaps were all she managed until the man firmly pinned her limbs beneath his meaty hand and heavy abdomen. Squirming proved to cause more pain than to be helpful, and soon both of their pants were off.

He took a long time to finish. Katara tried to buck him off a few times, but she knew that there was not much she could do with this mooselion of a man on top of her.

She had a fleeting thought that maybe he would finish faster if her top was off, like the day before. As quick as it came, though, she dismissed it. Better to endure the pain than to allow herself to fall any lower.

She thought about how her family would see her if they knew what was happening to her. How she allowed herself to be used in this way. A part of her knew there wasn’t much she could do about it, but that part was overruled by her shame. _You’re supposed to be strong. Make them stop._

She could hardly move at all, though. Not with the solid weight on top of her. All she could do was wait.

Suddenly, Katara remembered the water sitting in a bucket. There wasn’t much left, but at least there was something. If she could just move her hands…

The guard let out a rough moan just then, ceasing the movement of his hips and pushing himself off of her to make way for the next man.

A stream of water knocked him in the side of the head before he could get very close to her. Katara was up in a defensive position, hands guiding the water and as much perspiration from the men and herself as she could. She even drew the liquid that dripped down the side of her leg to form enough of a weapon to wield against the men.

For awhile, they couldn’t touch her, allowing her to scoot her pants up to rest loosely on her hips. She stood on shaky legs, but her stance remained strong. Each grab they made at her would be met with a sharp flick of her wrist, sending pricks of ice into their arms or streams of water into their eyes. It was evident that none of the three men were benders.

She managed to keep them on the other side of the room- about four arm lengths away. For a few minutes, no one moved. Katara allowed herself the time to breathe as she was protected with liquid spirals swirling around her. A strong blast had knocked one of the guards hard enough into the wall that he was holding his head, and the large one who had assaulted her had half a dozen cuts on his huge arms from where her ice daggers had cut him.

She hadn’t noticed the fourth figure standing alone in a dark corner until a burst of light erupted, effectively breaking through her defenses and pushing her back a step.

Sherik easily overtook her and the minimal amount of her element in her command. He dried up every drop of water almost instantly, and Katara was left with nothing.

Bracing herself for the heat of flames she had become so accustomed to in the past few days, the waterbender let her hands lay at her side and dug her feet into the ground. Head high, she watched the man as he pushed himself off the wall.

But he didn’t approach her. Instead, he cocked his head in her direction, a minute gesture that she could easily have missed.

The heads up didn’t matter, though. Without water, she was easily overtaken by the three guards again. One left the cell after giving her an excessively rough shove onto the ground. Without the mattress to soften her fall, the breath was knocked out of her so suddenly that she was stuck gasping for breath while another man got on top of her.

Katara slammed her eyes shut when the other man began groping her and roughly pulling her head to the side each time she spat up at the man on top of her. She felt the skin on her cheeks being scraped raw.

They took turns with her, and Katara was bitterly grateful that Sherik seemed to be more interested in picking his nails than watching her. She also was glad for the lack of burns. Her ribs still killed with every thrust, though.

When they were finished, she was oddly proud to be able to right herself while straightening her clothes. She figured she looked ridiculous, with bloodied cheeks and dark red stains on her pants, standing with her head held high and a glare that could melt glaciers.

She even made a bolt towards the door when it opened, only stopped when Sherik’s barrier of fire appeared so close to her face that pieces of hair singed.

When the flames cleared out, she stood a breath away from piercing golden eyes.

Zogen’s white hair was a steep contrast to the shadowy room, the dim light of the candles illuminating the texture of his scars and too-light eyes.

“I don’t. Know. Anything.” She was breathing heavily. Not so much in fear as in anger.

Her breath caught as she half-expected to see a forked tongue slither from his lips as he spoke.

“Of course you don’t,” he laughed. _Laughed_ at her. “Why would Hakoda tell _you_ anything? He doesn’t trust you. How could he?”

She could practically hear the hiss. But she didn’t have to grace him with a response. Of course her father trusted her. He just couldn’t risk telling anyone at home in case something like this happened.

“He didn’t even take you with him. Your brother- Sokka is it?- was left to lead what was left of your broken tribe, but what could you do? You can’t lead. Can’t fight. Can’t even defend yourself. Couldn’t even save your mother.”

Katara recoiled at that, taking a step back. Her mother had died years ago in a fire nation raid. She was eight. There was nothing she could do.

“I was there when your mother died,” Zogen went on. “Pretty thing, she was. Had those same eyes. So determined and bright, until she realized she was going to die. You had already gone, of course. Ran off to your daddy while your mother died, alone.”

"The eyes can tell so much, you see.” He paused for a brief moment to study Katara's eyes now. “For instance yours right now have that brightness, determined not to break. But just near the center there’s a hint of a dark cloud. A fear that, just maybe, your determination won’t be good enough. When you’re laying on the ground, with your life slowly bleeding out from you, it’ll be because the light was completely overtaken by the darkness. Your mother’s eyes were so grey when you left her. She knew she’d never see you again. But still…” he almost smiled, then. “They still held just enough light to make me respect her. I almost regretted watching her die.”

Katara didn’t finch from him this time, even though hearing him talk about her mother made her want to spit in his face or claw HIS eyes out. She forced her gaze to remain steely, and threw as much hate as she could into it.

"My mother has done _nothing_ to the fire nation or anyone! She did not deserve to be killed. But your type just kills whoever they want with no repercussions whatsoever."

Zogen's eyebrows shot up at that. "You think she was just killed for no reason? She could have lived. But she chose to lie, saying that _she_ was the last waterbender. But I guess we all know now that that's not true, is it?" He looked hard at her.

 _No,_ she thought. _They killed her because that’s what they_ do. _It wasn’t my fault…_

“No. They killed her because that’s what the Fire Nation does. Ruin lives and hurt people.”

Zogen shook his head slowly, sadly. “No, my dear girl. She did not have to die. That death was meant for you. And you ran away, leaving your mother to die in your place. Like the coward you are. _Weak._ And you deserve everything that has, and will happen to you.”

Katara said nothing.

“I’m sure by the time Sherik is through with you, you will have learned your lesson. Your mother was at least strong until the very end, but I can assure you that there will not be a trace of light in your eyes. And I’ll be here to watch them glass over. No one would be able to tell if you were dead or alive, if all they had was your eyes to look at. And then,” he smiled a bit at her, “you will die. The resistance will hear of how the South’s last waterbender was so easily broken by fire.”

“Won’t be so easy,” Katara hissed through gritted teeth.

He smiled and reached up to stroke her bloodied cheek with a false tenderness, grinning widely as she resisted the urge to flinch away. He lingered on her fierce stare for a moment more before turning and walking out the door, his guards following behind. 

Sherik was the last to leave. He paused at the door to look back at her, his eyes flashing with victory.

"Oh, and do give my regards to the prince. So sorry he couldn't join us today," he said with a mocking air.

All Katara could do was stand against the wall, starring at the closed door. So many things had just happened, she wasn't sure how to process it all.

First, her mother had died protecting her. Kya was dead because her daughter was the last waterbender. It was her fault that she had died. And once Katara was gone… the Southern line of benders would be gone. They would have no hope…

But she _wouldn’t_ break.

Secondly, Zogen had been there. The very man who was responsible for so much of her pain had watched her mother die, and was going to watch her die as well. It didn't matter that she didn't have information. He would make her suffer. Would make a mockery out of the last waterbender of the south, and snuff her out.

And third... What did Sherik mean about the prince? Prince of what? Katara and Sokka were sometimes considered prince and princess, because their father was the chief. But he wasn't here, was he? Had they captured her brother while she sat around in her prison?

She slid down the wall as the questions weighed down on her. With her head in her hands, she ran through everything she knew about what the fire nation had done to her tribe, trying to sort through fact and the lie she had been told all her life.

The more she thought about her mother, the faster the tears came. By the time she had worked up to thinking about her current situation, the salt had begun to burn in the open cuts on her face. The only hope she had was that she would be able to withstand whatever Zogen or Sherik threw at her long enough for her brother or father to rescue her. And then she would make them pay.

She eventually pulled herself together enough to bend her tears dry, and did cleaned herself up as best as she could.

She hoped Zuko would bring more water. He’d been gone for a long time, as it was. But at least he hadn’t been there to watch her fall apart. She was grateful for that, at least.

As Katara shook the emotional and physical pains of the day off, she continued her stretches from earlier, working her way into practicing bending stances. She wondered how someone like Zuko could be so different than every other firebenders she had had the displeasure of knowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm back. Sorry for the wait! I'm still new at this and this chapter was a bitch to write. Also had a crazy couple months. Sorryyyy. It's a little longer to make up for it (also i didn't want to end it without a few things being explained first). Not my easiest or best writing but, like i said, crazy times in my personal life.
> 
> Hope you at least somewhat enjoy! Comment/review :)


	12. Chapter 12

Whatever Zuko was expecting when he saw Katara again, it definitely wasn’t this.

He had rushed back to her door the moment he was released, and entered to find her calmly going through her bending exercises, her leg healed and ribs only affecting her movements minimally. Her pants were a little bloodied, and her face was a bit torn up, but she looked better than she had when he left that afternoon.

To say he was a little confused would have been an understatement.

Katara didn’t look up when the boy arrived, just kept practicing a form that would freeze her enemy’s ankles to the ground. If she could just figure out how to alter that to make some sort of cuff around a fire bender’s wrists…

“Um,” Zuko interrupted. “I… guess you’re feeling better.?”

She gave him a side eye before pulling herself from her thoughts. “Water benders heal faster. I’ll be good as new in a few days. Maybe faster.”

“So you’re- I mean I wasn’t allowed back until they- I thought he would have”

“Zuko,” she said gently. “I’m fine. But I do need more water.” She grabbed the empty bucket and held it up to him, shaking it expectantly.

The boy just looked at her like she’d grown a third eye.

“Aren’t you the water boy?” she teased, pushing the pail into his hands.

Zuko blinked before shaking his head, seemingly snapping out of his confusion.

Once he left, Katara sighed, looking over at the dirty mattress. She flipped it over to the cleaner side, avoiding any reminder of what had happened just a few hours before. She may need Zuko’s help bringing her supplies and food, but that didn’t mean she’d let him pity her or see her weak, as Zogen had implied she was.

She washed her clothes as best as she could and healed her face when he got back. She tossed the dirty water down the toilet hole, reasoning that she’d have to bathe herself later.

They ate in awkward silence, neither really wanting to say anything. Katara decided it was up to her to attempt some sort of normal conversation. They may as well talk to pass the time, and she wasn’t about to give him an opportunity to bring up whatever he was going to say earlier. As they ate the dried oats and plums he had brought, she tried to come up with something easy to talk about, something relatively normal. She recalled a story from home, hoping he’d find it as funny as she did.

“…And then he said: ‘and that’s how you can use penguin pee and snow to grow a plum tree.’ So of course all the kids are trying to find the patches of yellow snow, and started shoving plum pits and apple seeds and whatever they could find down into the ice. And they would sing to their plants every day, just like Sokka told them. You should have seen the look on Hakoda’s face when he and the other men came back from a hunt to find a half dozen children dancing and singing around penguin piss,” Katara couldn’t keep herself from laughing.

Zuko remained silent.

She cleared her throat of the last few chuckles before settling down. “I, um, I guess you had to be there.”

They sat in the awkward quietness once more.

“One time my sister lit my bed on fire and blamed it on the cat. I had to get rid of him after that.”

Katara blinked at him. “I don’t think you quite get the concept of a funny story, Zuko.”

He just shrugged, standing up with the bucket in hand to leave.

“Zuko wait,” she grabbed his hand. Both of them looked at their joined hands for moment before she caught herself and let go, rubbing her palm on her knee. “You don’t have to go yet.”

He exhaled heavily, letting the bucket fall back to the ground with a clang as he swiped a hand through his hair.

“I just- I just don’t get how you can joke around about apple trees and penguin piss when you’re _here._ Does it not even occur to you how bad this is? Sherik doesn’t mess around. People die every day in here and you just act like nothing’s even wrong when you could barely walk after, after yesterday. I was just stuck in my bunk all day worrying about you when you don’t even take it seriously- “

“You were worried about me?”

Zuko opened and closed his mouth a few times, gaping at her like a very frustrated fish. “I mean, I just,” he breathed out, smoke coming from his nostrils. “This isn’t some joke, Katara. I know what they can do to a person. I’ve been here for _years_ and have seen so many people just disappear like they weren’t even here in the first place. This is where the worst enemies of the Fire Lord are sent to be tortured and killed. This is _bad._ You have to understand that and quit treating it like it’s not a big deal.”

“You don’t think I know that? People like them killed every waterbender in my tribe decades ago. They killed my mother because they thought she was one, too. They want to make an example out of me to show what happens to those who defy the Fire Nation. They won’t stop until there’s no one left to resist them.” They were both practically yelling now.

She breathed out a frustrated groan, hands tight fists at her sides. She looked at him and at the bucket again and her gaze softened a bit. He‘s been nothing but kind to her when no one else was. And he _worried_ about her. Even when her family had been together, she’d been able to take care of herself, and no one had a reason to worry about her.

Now, with circumstances being what they were, it was nice to have someone… care? _Is that the right word?_ She thought, unballing her fists and biting the inside of her cheek. _Does Zuko…_ care _about me?_

Somewhere, she knew it couldn’t be much more than just a casual worrying over her wellbeing, just because he was a nice guy, but she couldn’t help noticing the small voice popping up almost instantaneously and whispering none-too-quietly that, yes, she cared about him too.

_Definitely not the time or place to be thinking about this._

“What did you do?”

“…What?” Zuko asked, as confounded with her change in mood as he was with the question.

“What did you do to be sent here? Why haven’t they gotten rid of you yet?”

“They sometimes send political enemies here. People who can’t be killed, but can’t be actively defying the Fire Lord. They work for the guards and do upkeep and stuff.” He was talking slowly, unsure if she would call him out on his vagueness.

“So they took you here because of how your mom took in refugees?”

“Um, not exactly. I-“

“What use would they have for you? I mean, no offense, but why would they keep you here instead of, uh…” she made a gesture, swiping a finger across her neck, hoping he’d get her meaning.

“It’s because of who my father is. He’s… pretty important.”

“Like, a hand to the Fire Lord, or something?” Katara asked, confused.

She concentrated on his face again, reading the harsh lines that always lay there as strained and conflicted.

_“Give the prince my regards…”_

It was known that Fire Lord Ozai had two heirs: a son and a daughter. The Southern Tribe hasn’t had much access to news since the start of the war, but a trading ship passing through a few years ago had informed them that Ozai’s son had disappeared. Katara didn’t remember the full story, but no one from home seemed to pay it much mind. They just saw it as one less member of the royal family who wanted them destroyed.

It never occurred to her that he could still be alive.

She looked at Zuko’s scar, taking in the angry shape and shadowy complexion of it that stood out against his pale skin. What had he said about it? Not much. It was a warning against defying the Nation’s laws, yes, but how did he get it…

“Who burned you?” she asked. It may have been a little insensitive, sure, but she had to know. Had to get answers.

Zuko looked as uncomfortable as ever at the mention of his scar. “My father. For not respecting his orders.”

_Orders?_

“I thought you said the Fire Lord had you punished for what your mother did for those refugees.”

“That is correct.”

He was avoiding her eyes now. But that was ok. She had everything she needed. Just when she thought she had a friend in here...

Zuko caught her arm as she pulled away from him, betrayed. “Katara, it’s not-“

“It’s _exactly_ what it looks like. You _lied_ to me. Even after you knew what the Fire Lord had done to my people, what he’s ordering done to _me._ ”

“I haven’t spoken to him since I was sent here. I’m stuck here, just like you. Practically disowned. I don’t have any part in what’s happening outside of here.”

Katara yanked herself from his grip. She may have felt a thrill when they’d held hands earlier, but _now-_

“If that’s true, why would you act like you’re just some regular guy in here. Why would you just not _tell_ me?”

Zuko scoffed bitterly, “Because I knew you’d be like this! Finally, I’d get one chance to just be a person, not the disgraced son of the Fire Lord. I thought we would be-“

“What? That we’d be _friends_? Your people kill my people. That’s just how it is. Your people lie and hurt and burn, and you’re just like them.”

“Katara, I didn’t lie to you, I just wanted you to know me for _who_ I am, not what I am. I’m not-“

“Was any of that story about your mom even true?”

“Yes,” he snapped, now. “The Fire Lord—my _father_ —had her killed because she was helping his enemies. I defended her, and was given _this,_ ” he pointed at his scar with an accusatory finger. “When it was healed enough, I was banished and sent here. For who knows how long.”

Katara was quieter, now. “Your father gave you that?” she asked for clarification.

The sour look she got answered that question well enough.

“Look,” she started, pinching the top of her nose between her eyes to relieve some of the tension there. “I can kind of get why you hid it from me. I mean, I’m basically just a stranger and you were right, it’s hard to look over something like this. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the, the…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it, because it was _really_ weird to think about the boy who brought her things to basically keep her alive as a prince. She settled for making a crown with her hands above her head.

Zuko smirked. But it wasn’t so much mean as it was frustrated.

“Maybe we should just… forget about it.”

“What?” he ventured.

“I mean, I know what we are and that we shouldn’t even be civil with each other, but then again we’re _here_ and this is really _happening_ and I don’t know how much longer it’ll take for me to be rescued and I really do appreciate all you’re doing for me and would probably be dead if it weren’t for you and this is all really confusing and I don’t know-“

She broke off when she noticed how close he was. _When did he get so close?_

“Katara.”

She’d never heard her name sound like that. Firm and unyielding but at the same time almost scared. He looked at her with a mix of admiration and annoyance. She stood transfixed, waiting for him to say something else.

Zuko knew she was right. He did. By all standards, they should hate each other. Sure, he was tasked with bringing her the necessities and had to continue doing so if he was to avoid punishment, but he shouldn’t be _enjoying_ it so much. He looked forward to talking with her. Even if it was about something as dark as the war, or as light as a stupid story about her home. He kept looking for opportunities to touch her, always hoping he’d get the chance to hold her like he had on that first day, when she had been cold and scared (although she wouldn’t admit that first part). This girl was in a position that should have made her terrified, but she stood as strong as she could, pissing off the guards with her resistance. The fight in her usually ended up making it worse, but she dealt with that too. He didn’t know how she did it, but he had felt hope welling up in his chest for the first time since he’d been banished. He really thought that this woman, this Water Tribe girl, could be the key to the plans that the underground resistance had been making for months.

Of course, there was the nagging little voice in his head reminding him of the emotions she so often elicited that didn’t have to do with the greater good as much as his own personal good, but he pushed that back to deal with later.

He shook his head clear. “Katara,” he repeated in that soft voice that she really _really_ wished he’d use more often. “I just really need you to be okay. This isn’t some open-access jail where prisoners are released or tried. Once you’re here, you don’t get out. And as much faith as you have in your father and brother… they’re not going to be able to get you out.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that. But hearing him say it was another thing entirely.

“So, what? I’m supposed to just give up? They’ll _kill_ me if that happens. You didn’t hear what he said today-“

“I know what he’ll do,” Zuko snapped. He ran a hand through his hair before repeating more calmly “I know. Just… I don’t know. I know you’re not scared or anything, but it’s going to get a lot worse and you need to be ready for it. And if joking around and pushing it aside helps you deal with it now, it might not work forever.”

Katara considered his words, looking down and focusing on her dirty boots, which were the same ones she had been wearing when she’d been taken from the South Pole. She traced each seam with her eyes, trying to memorize where each stitch was before answering.

“I am scared,” she murmured. She almost hoped Zuko couldn’t hear her, but the room was silent except for their voices, making her quiet admission seem deafening to her ears.

Zuko looked at her, waiting for her to look up to meet his eyes. When it became apparent that it was his turn to say something, he sighed before responding. “You’d be stupid not to be.”

She let out a weak laugh, more of just a sad “ha.”

 

*

 

“…Zuko?”

“Mmm?” He mumbled from his spot beside the mattress, half asleep.

“Why are you so nice to me? I mean I know I’m basically your job assignment, but you don’t have to be nice about it.”

He thought for a moment. “I guess it’s because I didn’t really have a reason to believe in anything in the years I’ve been here. And then this girl shows up and starts breaking guard’s noses and stuff. I haven’t met many people outside of the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdoms, but I don’t know. It surprised me. In a good way.”

“You’re nice to me because I cause trouble?”

“I’m nice to you because you’re not a bad person. Some of the people here are, but you’re not. And you… tolerated me. You didn’t judge me for what my father did. Well, I guess now it’ll be different, but…”

Katara leaned up onto her elbows to look at him. He had extinguished the light, but she could still make out his face. “I won’t hold that against you. It’s not your fault.”

His eyes flicked up to her face. “Thanks, I guess.”

The silence stretched on again, and Zuko would have thought she’d gone back to sleep if he didn’t know she was still propped up, looking down at him.

He let out a heavy sigh. “What now?”

“I was just. Um. You’ve been sleeping on the ground.”

“Yeah, so?”

“And you could really sleep in your own bunk, but instead you’re here.”

“Katara. What’s your point?”

“I was, uh, thinkingwecouldsharethebed,” she hurried.

Now it was his turn to sit up. “Are you asking me to sleep with you?”

Her face heated up. “I mean. Then we could pile the blankets underneath and on top of us so it’ll be warmer and then we don’t have to… be so close to the mattress? I don’t know. If you want. I was just thinking.”

The want for more blankets made sense, he supposed. But Zuko had hoped she’d had other reasons. He hadn’t had many intimate situations even back at home, and absolutely none since he’d gotten here, obviously. His sister would have made fun of him for wanting something so… cozy, but he did miss the simple things like sharing a bed with another person. And he’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about getting closer to Katara…

Katara mentally kicked herself for being so stupid. She knew it would probably be too hot with all the blankets and him underneath them, anyways. He’d been so warm when he’d held her one of the first nights, reminding her of the colder days back home when she would snuggle up under the furs with her family. She missed it. But Zuko probably thought she was being needy, and would rather keep his distance from her, anyways. After all, he’d seen the things that had been done for her. It was stupid for even asking.

But, to her surprise (and excitement), he was already scotching over onto the mattress, laying out blankets underneath them with a “sit up,” and then laying one over the both of them.

Their shoulders touched, but neither seemed to want to move any closer.

Katara ended up turning onto her side towards him, her head almost, but not exactly, resting on his arm.  

“Zuko?”

He just grunted, not trusting himself to say anything because _she was so close_.

“Does this mean I have to call you ‘Your Highness?’”

He breathed out, trying to ignore the feeling of her hair brushing up against the bare skin of his neck. It was a small mattress.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

She was quiet again for a few more minutes.

“Zuko? Last time, I promise.”

He turned his head to look at her, putting their faces so close he could feel her breath against lips.

“I know this is stupid but… could I maybe… could we…?”

Zuko wouldn’t have understood clearer if he could read minds. Gently, he shifted closer, tucking a shoulder under her head, hoping she’d take that as a “yes.”

She did, positioning her head in the junction of where his neck, shoulder, and chest met. His chest was strong, but the muscle there had just enough give to make it a comfortable place to rest on.

She took a chance, throwing an arm around his torso. She could feel his breath hitch in surprise, and she almost removed it, but was stopped when he brushed his hand with hers, imploring her fingers to separate enough for his to slide in between them.

The both lay there, focusing to each other’s breathing. Zuko could feel her breath, while Katara felt the steady bump of his heart against her ear.

She fell asleep first, the day’s events catching up with her and leaving her to give into her exhaustion.

Zuko listened for a bit longer, in awe of how he ended up holding a girl- a Water Tribe girl- in his arms in a dirty cell after being alone for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very much appreciated! :)


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